


Affliction

by TheWishmaster21



Category: Derry Girls (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Anxiety, Bisexual Female Character, F/F, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Slow Burn, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:47:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29614509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWishmaster21/pseuds/TheWishmaster21
Summary: Michelle Mallon is certain of two things - she wants to ride fellas, and she doesn't give a fuck.  As it becomes clear neither of those things is entirely true, she experiences a crisis unlike anything she's ever known.
Relationships: Clare Devlin/Michelle Mallon, Clare Devlin/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 60
Kudos: 23





	1. what made me lose my grasp

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what it is about this comedic show that inspired me to write such angsty stories, but here we are. A few opening notes - although there are relationships in the tags which almost suggest a love triangle, this isn't exactly a romance-centered fic. It's more of a character study where sexuality and romantic feelings play a significant role. Also, the tags pretty much say it all, but I'll add chapter-specific content warnings in the opening notes when relevant. 
> 
> At the start of the story, Clare has a part time job at the mall, and the girls can drive (scary!).
> 
> All chapter titles are lyrics from various songs by The Amity Affliction.

**June 1996**

“Caaaaaan you feel the looooove tonight,” crooned Jenny Joyce on the stage in front of the assembled students of Our Lady Immaculate College. As was customary, Aisling dutifully sang in perfect pitch at the piano and Sister Michael stood scowling in the corner. It was the final assembly of term and all the students were itching to be set free and begin enjoying their summer holidays.

“It is wheeeeere we aaaaaaare!”

“Good God, how the fuck was this one not already on the list?” said Michelle to James, who nodded solemnly. He had a very low tolerance for secondhand embarrassment, meaning Jenny’s performances were essentially a form of torture for him.

“Here’s a telltale sign Jenny’s family’s loaded.” said Erin, leaning over to Clare to whisper in her ear, “They have money to burn if they’re continuing to pay for that charlatan who gives her voice lessons.”

“What?” said Clare distractedly, having been roused from a daydream, “Oh I know, how has she not gotten any better after all these years?”

But her attempt to appear casual did not go unnoticed by Erin, whose features arranged in a look of utmost confusion and borderline concern.

“Clare…were you…smiling? How can you smile at a time like this?” she cocked her head toward the stage, where Jenny was croaking out a particularly flat note.

“I was just thinking about how term’s almost over, I suppose!” Clare whispered, hoping Erin wouldn’t notice the blush in her cheeks.

“Aye, that’s fair” replied Erin. “Last one of these until September.”

Jenny finished and bowed deeply, missing Sister Michael’s magnificent eyeroll behind her. As usual, only Orla clapped. If nothing else, she was a sucker for anything related to _The Lion King._

“Lovely, girls.” Sister Michael said, with palpable exasperation. “An appropriate way to end another grueling year. Now I don’t wish to drag this out any further. Have a pleasant holiday break, stay safe, and let’s get out of here…God knows I’m dying to.” 

The gang left Our Lady Immaculate eagerly chattering about their plans for summer holidays. First and foremost, they were going to a party that evening to celebrate. They had to beg their parents to let them go, but it wasn’t every day you finished your penultimate year of secondary school.

“I’ll pick you both up at your place at 7:30,” said Michelle to Erin and Orla. “Clare, I should be at yours a few minutes after, that’s assuming Erin’s ready on time for once.”

Clare turned pink in the face again.

“Um, I won’t need you to pick me up actually. I’ll meet you girls there.”

“Christ Clare, I won’t be drunk yet at that point. My driving will _most likely_ be fine.”

“No, it’s not that. A girl from work said she’d drive me. We realized the other day we’d both be going to this party and she lives right down my street.” 

“Grand. Less work for me.”

Erin had a sudden epiphany about the potential reason for Clare’s smiling during Jenny’s atrocious love song. It would be adorable if Clare had found herself a crush or girlfriend! But Erin didn’t put her on the spot and ask. She figured Clare would have told the group if she had wanted them to know. 

None of the others noticed anything amiss about Clare’s behavior, and soon they all departed for their respective homes to prepare for their big evening.

Michelle picked up Erin and Orla right on time, speeding away down the street honking her horn while Mary watched from the window, performing the Sign of the Cross. 

“I’ve come prepared girls.” she informed them. “James, show them the bag.”

James produced a large bag of liquor from the floor under his seat. 

“Michelle didn’t know how much alcohol would be available at this party, so she brought every last bit on Earth with us just to be safe.”

Orla pulled an expensive-looking, decorative bottle filled with bright green liquid from the bag. 

“Whoa, this looks class! But if I spill it on these overalls it’ll never wash out.”

Erin delicately pulled the bottle out of Orla’s hands. 

“Michelle, is this what I think it is?”

“Damn right it is,” Michelle laughed deviously.

“Where the _hell_ did you get absinthe?!”

“Doesn’t matter. The important thing is, I got it. Who’s ready to have the best night of our fuckin lives?”

“I still reckon you’re gonna be the only one of us drinking it.” James said.

“Seriously Michelle, I’d prefer to have fun tonight, not crawl home clattered in my own boke.” agreed Erin.

“Why are you such a wreck-the-buzz suddenly? Have you turned into Clare?” said Michelle, irritated. Then, trying to make it sound like a casual afterthought, she added “Speaking of Clare, did you lot know before today that she made a friend at the mall?”

“No, I didn’t.” said Erin “And you have to swear not to mention this unless she does, alright? But I think Clare might be interested in more than friendship.”

“What?!” said Michelle, whipping around to look at Erin and swerving slightly. “How the fuck do you know she’s riding this lass if you just found out about this too?”

“Eyes on the road! And I don’t _know_. I just saw her grinning during Jenny’s love song today, which was really weird otherwise, and she was blushing when she mentioned her on the walk home.”

“Aw, Clare has a wee girlfriend! I’m delighted for her!” said Orla.

“We don’t know they’re dating, Orla!” snapped Michelle as she pulled haphazardly into a makeshift parking space on the street near the house where the party was already in full swing. 

As if on cue, a pretty girl with long red hair in a braid stepped out of the drivers’ seat of the car nearest them. She walked around to the passenger side and opened the door, where Clare stepped out. The girl was beaming as she held out her hand, which Clare took, before standing on her toes and giving the girl a peck on the cheek. 

Erin, Orla and James quickly exited the car, and ruined the romantic moment in their excitement. 

“I knew it! Why didn’t you tell us you had a girlfriend?” exclaimed Erin.

“She’s so cracker Clare!! Dating really suits you!” shouted Orla, who in her enthusiasm had gone to stand slightly too close to the ginger. 

Clare looked almost giddy as she looked at her companion and then around at her friends. 

“Sorry I didn’t tell you girls, but it’s all so new and I wanted to introduce you in person. This is Kayleigh, my girlfriend!”

Kayleigh smiled and waved at the group.

“Kayleigh, these are my friends I told you about – Erin, Orla, James,-”

“So, turns out you’re not the only fuckin lesbian in Derry after all, eh?”

Michelle stepped out of the car, already taking a swig from one of the bottles and trying to appear confident, as she always did when the group met someone new. Her attempt to be cool didn’t fully resonate - Kayleigh raised her eyebrows and pulled a face that suggested she was less than impressed.

“And Michelle.” said Clare, rolling her eyes. 

“Yes, she is always like this, in case you were wondering.” said James.

“And he’s always an English prick.” Michelle said harshly, taking another sip from her bottle. “Fancy a wee drink, Kayleigh? I got the class goods for tonight.”

She flashed the bottle of absinthe, along with a wink. 

“Bit of a slabber there, aren’t you?” said Kayleigh with a mischievous grin, staring into Michelle’s eyes. It was apparent she wasn’t going to be intimidated, and there was a slightly uncomfortable pause. 

“Enough standing around, let’s crack on shall we?” said Erin, grabbing a bottle from the bag. “It’s lovely to meet you, Kayleigh. We’re all buzzin for you and Clare! Welcome to the group.”

“Aye cheers to Kayleigh. Let’s see if she can keep up tonight eh?” said Michelle, as if it were a challenge. 

The others were used to Michelle’s brash demeanor straying into abrasive territory, but they were surprised she’d mouth off so aggressively upon her first introduction to Clare’s girlfriend. This was a big deal after all; lesbians weren’t exactly a dime a dozen in Derry. 

Michelle couldn’t explain why she disliked Kayleigh from the moment she set eyes on her. For starters, Michelle would never be fond of new additions to the group, because she hated people she didn’t know. She thought Kayleigh seemed to be aloof and lacking a sense of humor, which was Michelle’s least favorite type of person. Not to mention the ginger element.

_Or maybe you’re jealous because Clare somehow hit it off with the only other lesbian in Derry before you found a fella._

Fuck no, she wasn’t jealous of Clare and Kayleigh. They probably wouldn’t last anyway. As the gang entered the party, Michelle was determined not to waste her night by dwelling on that craic killer…


	2. absent from my own train of thought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michelle gets more than she bargained for when she attempts to show Clare's new girlfriend who's in charge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for the comments on the first chapter! 
> 
> CW: vomiting (don't need Sarah's tarot cards to see that coming though)

A few hours later, Michelle had long since lost track of the number of drinks she’d had, along with the whereabouts of her friends. The parents of the lad who was hosting the party had a house comparable in size to Jenny’s. They were also apparently more lenient than any parents the girls had ever met, as every teenager in Derry appeared to be in attendance and on their worst behavior. 

She spied Clare and Kayleigh in a corner, giving each other a sappy look as though they had forgotten about everyone else there. Time to have some fun. Michelle had already made out with two fellas but neither of them wanted to do anything further. Frustrated, she was looking for something else to occupy her. 

“Oy, lovebirds!” she staggered over to them. “This is some craic isn’t it? You coping alright Kayleigh?”

“Aye believe it or not, we have parties in Belfast as well,” replied Kayleigh with a smirk.

“D’you have competitive drinking?”

“Excuse me?”

“Fancy seeing if you can drink more shots of absinthe than me?” asked Michelle, staring Kayleigh down and shouting over the music so that several other people nearby turned to look. It was probably just the alcohol that was possessing her to act so confrontational, but in any case, her determination to forget about the couple had gone out the window. She wanted to ensure it was clear who was the alpha around. 

“Michelle, come on, Kayleigh doesn’t wanna drink that stuff; it’ll poison you both.” said Clare.

“No Clare, it’s grand,” said Kayleigh, “Your friend here doesn’t think I can handle a bit of strong liquor? Let’s see then.”

She walked into the center of the room, and whistled loudly to attract everyone’s attention. Then she tapped on the shoulder of another girl near her who was holding a couple shot glasses and gestured for her to hand them over. Confused, the girl did so. 

“Let’s see if you can put your money where your mouth is, eh Michelle?” said Kayleigh, thoroughly enjoying herself now as a lot of other people started to gather. Erin and a boy she had been chatting with peered around the corner from an adjacent room.

Michelle briefly remembered the time she had ordered the first years to move from the back of the bus, not expecting one to stand up to her. She hadn’t expected Kayleigh to be so game, but there was no backing down now. At any rate, she felt certain she could outdrink someone this skinny. 

Michelle poured them each a shot and raised her glass.

“Sláinte.”

“To new beginnings,” Kayleigh said, smiling in Clare’s direction

_Christ, she’s gonna make me boke before we’ve even begun._

The two girls went back and forth taking shots. Michelle felt like the strong alcohol was burning her insides when not mixed or chased with anything. Just how long was Kayleigh going to be able to keep this up? The crowd of rowdy, intoxicated partygoers was cheering them on and the noise level along with the heat from the closely packed bodies was starting to make her feel dizzy. She willed herself as hard as she could to ignore the mounting nausea.

“You look greener than this shite we’re drinking, Michelle,” said Kayleigh, pouring them both another round. “Say the word if you need to give up.”

Michelle glared at her spitefully, forcing the shot down her throat. She knew she wasn’t going to physically prevent the inevitable for much longer. Looking at the cocky expression on Kayleigh’s face and thinking about how she was going to have to deal with this unbearable bitch for the foreseeable future pushed her over the edge. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” said Michelle as she looked around for a bin in which to boke. The closest thing she could find was a large potted house plant. She threw up into it, the potent liquor burning even worse as it came back up. 

The crowd broke into a mix of cheers, laughs, disgusted groans, and applause. As bad as it physically felt to vomit absinthe, the humiliation was infinitely worse. 

Clare raised Kayleigh’s arm in a gesture of victory, and Kayleigh responded by pulling Clare close to her and kissing her passionately. 

There was an immediate uproar among those gathered - none of them had ever actually seen two girls kiss before. Many cheered, admiring Kayleigh for being so bold, but a few people exchanged scandalized glances. Erin, James, and Orla looked thrilled for Clare. Michelle stared at the scene from her undignified position in the plant and felt enraged. The rejection from the two lads earlier, the shame of her current predicament, and inexplicably, the sight of the happy couple were making her furious, and she wanted to take it out on someone. 

“Get a room, girls!” Erin teased as Clare and Kayleigh laughed.

Michelle spit into the soil of the plant and then stood up straight, shoving someone out of the way to approach the pair again. 

“Ach, forget a room, get a fucking closet,” she spat, more viciously than intended. However, the damage had been done.

The smiles disappeared off her friends’ faces and several surrounding people gasped. The room fell into an uncomfortable silence save for a few whispers. 

“Jesus Michelle, calm down. It was all just a bit of craic.” said Erin.

Kayleigh was surveying Michelle with genuine dislike in her narrowed eyes now and Clare looked more hurt than angry, which made Michelle feel guilty for the first time all night. 

“How could you say that?” Clare said, taken aback. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I think she’s had a wee bit too much to drink. Can’t handle it after all.” said Kayleigh coldly. As if there weren’t enough embarrassing things about this situation, she was somehow still coherent. 

“Aye saunter on, ye arsehole,” someone from the assembled group piped up. 

For the second time, it appeared as though the gang were about to leave a party in disgrace. They performed the walk (stumble) of shame amidst whispers and stares. Most people were conversing about Michelle’s uncivilized display, but there were a few comments about Clare and Kayleigh as well…

“Hold on,” said Clare as they reached their cars. She looked at her girlfriend. “You’re in no state to drive.”

“Aye let’s not even mention Michelle,” said Erin with a hiccup.

It only just dawned on them that none of them had decided to abstain from drinking, least of all the ones who had driven there in the first place. The party was further from their homes than they felt comfortable walking, especially given the current condition some of them were in. They looked at each other and cursed their shortsightedness.

“I should be fine if I go slow, like” said Michelle, fumbling with her keys.

“Are you serious? Please tell me you did not just suggest that.” said James. “As if you haven’t done enough wrong tonight!”

Michelle couldn’t stand the way the group were looking at her, as if to say _“you just keep fucking up”_

“THIS IS NOT ONLY MY FUCKING FAULT!” she screamed at them. “Yous knew I was gonna be steamin by the end of this! Why the fuck didn’t anyone else stay sober?”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have volunteered to drive here in the first place!” yelled James.

“Then why didn’t you stop me before we left, dickhead?”

“Ok everyone, I think this was more of a _collective_ mistake,” interrupted Erin. “Maybe we can ask the host if we can crash…shit, what was his name again?”

“Brilliant. We don’t even know his name, Michelle boked in their plant and made a scene and now you think we can go back in and ask to sleep there?” said Clare, sounding almost hysterical now.

“I’m not drunk. I only had one wee beer a couple hours ago,” said Orla timidly, having waited for a break in the arguing.

“Aye, you also ate probably half the food they’d laid out, sure that’s helped!” said Michelle, looking relieved they had a way out. “Thanks Orla, why didn’t you speak up before?”

“Right, first of all, Michelle, I don’t think you have room to criticize anyone else for not exercising moderation!” retorted James. “And more importantly, have you all forgotten? Orla doesn’t have a license.”

The group let out a collective groan, fuming at their own stupidity.

“Gerry’s been letting me practice,” said Orla with a shrug. “I can give it a go, or else we gotta walk.”

They all said their prayers as Michelle reluctantly surrendered her keys and they piled into the Mallons’ car. She knew she was going to hate herself tomorrow. Far from being fun, this was the worst night she’d had in quite some time. She silently glared daggers at Clare and Kayleigh in the dark, desperate to blame anyone but herself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So far, not too far removed from standard Derry Girls shenanigans before things start to get truly complicated. 
> 
> Also I meant to add in the beginning of the fic, writing lots of dialogue for Michelle means it's gonna be more obvious that I'm American. I try my best to incorporate the Derry slang, because it's so important to the characters, but I'm sorry if it ever sounds off! 
> 
> Thanks for reading! :)


	3. my whole world's imploding, i can't find the words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michelle's dealing with more than just a hangover after the party, as unwanted thoughts have taken root in her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: more vomiting

The following day, the girls found themselves spending the first day of summer grounded, with their mothers absolutely raging about their excessive drinking and poor judgment. Deirdre Mallon was particularly livid at Michelle after James had relayed the story about the drinking contest with Kayleigh, not to mention the fact that Orla of all people had been in the driver’s seat of her car. 

“I don’t know what possessed you. You may as well have handed the keys to old Fergus across the road,” nagged Deirdre, referring to their blind elderly neighbor. Michelle thought this was a bit melodramatic, even for her Ma.

“She did alright, didn’t she? The car’s in one fuckin piece, Jesus…” protested Michelle, who was holding an ice pack on her head, shielding her eyes from the sunlight, and silently praying there wasn’t any physical indication that Orla had run over a curb. 

“You better watch that mouth of yours,” was all her mother said in response. “They’re not going to take very kindly to that course language when you go looking for a job.”

“What was that now?”

“You heard.”

The rest of the girls’ Mas were following in Geraldine Devlin’s footsteps and making them get summer jobs – it was the only thing they were to be allowed out of the house for this week. James currently wasn’t speaking to Michelle because he was so displeased with her comment about the closet, and he informed Deirdre he’d be going to look for jobs separately from Michelle while she was sat right next to him at the table.

“You can’t ignore me forever, dickface, we live together.”

He simply cast a disappointed look in her direction and headed out the door. 

Michelle headed over to the Quinns’ house so she could retrieve Erin to accompany her on the job hunt. When she arrived, she felt like everyone in the house was giving her dirty looks, right down to the damn baby. She felt defensive and irritated at everyone for being so uptight. Was everyone really so bothered about what she had said to Clare and her bitch of a girlfriend? When had all her friends lost the ability to take a wee joke?

Erin looked worse for wear as she emerged from upstairs.

“James came round to get Orla to go with him to look for jobs, so it’ll just be us,” she said, sounding like she’d rather go back to bed.

Michelle responded with a grunt, trying to sound indifferent. They headed out, cursing the day for being so sunny. They waited until they were a safe distance from the Quinns’ home before sitting down on a curb. They had agreed neither of them actually had the strength to search for jobs while being so hungover that they could hardly function. Michelle lit a cigarette to distract herself from the headache and dull nausea.

“I suppose you’re the only one still speaking to me currently,” she began. “Everyone’s acting like I killed that lezzer at the party. It was just a wee bit of competitive banter.” She wanted to gauge Erin’s reaction, hoping to hear at least one person hadn’t gone absolutely mental over this.

Erin made a slightly exasperated face and put her head in her hands, pausing to think before replying.

“I mean, I’ll not hold it against you, but I’m not the one you need to apologize to, am I? Seriously, what got into you?”

“I was blocked, Erin! Christ, I didn’t really mean Clare should go back in the closet. I was just fuming that beanpole bitch Kayleigh showed me up.”

“Aye but you were an arsehole to her from the moment you stepped out of the car! What was all that about? Are you not happy for Clare?”

“I just didn’t like her, what’s the big fucking deal!?” said Michelle, with a savagery that surprised Erin.

“Alright, calm down for God’s sake. I suppose there’s no point in me asking why. But I imagine she’s gonna be hanging round us quite often this summer, so…”

Erin had known Michelle her entire life, so she was more than used to her foulmouthed friend despising people for no discernable reason. However, her attitude towards Kayleigh was confusing even to Erin. Erin was very much on Clare’s side in this situation, and she’d been hoping that Michelle would be apologetic for her actions in the cold light of day, but she was obviously doubling down. Erin wanted all her friends to be on good terms during what might be their final summer all together in Derry, so she steeled herself to make a suggestion.

“You should at least apologize to Clare. No matter how you feel about her girlfriend, what you said was homophobic. Clare needs our support; it’s difficult fancying girls in a place like Derry!”

_Ain’t that the truth._

The thought occurred to Michelle against her will, as if her id had spoken. A chill ran down her spine.

“What?!” she said out loud, in response to her inner voice.

“Huh?” said Erin, twisting her face in confusion. “I just said Clare needs our-“

Michelle’s body seemed to be trying to physically rebuke the thought, and within an instant she went from feeling garden-variety hungover to violently nauseated. She hastily stood up and only made it a few paces away from Erin before vomiting into the grass.

“Jesus, why didn’t you warn me you were gonna boke.” Erin said, looking the other way and silently hoping this was part of the reason Michelle had been acting so belligerent this morning.

Michelle stood there, hands on her knees, panting, not wanting to look at Erin in case her face revealed her panic. She didn’t know how difficult it was to fancy girls in Derry, because she _didn’t_ fancy girls. She was just sympathizing with Clare. Clare, who needed her support and deserved an apology. She wiped her mouth and turned around slowly.

“You’re right, ok? I need to apologize to Clare.”

The pair headed over to the Devlins’ house and knocked on the door. Geraldine answered, and looked not altogether pleased to see the bad influences that her daughter called friends standing before her. 

“You lot sure enjoyed yourselves last night didn’t ye?”

Erin and Michelle exchanged glances. Mrs. Devlin didn’t seem irate at Michelle specifically, leading them to assume Clare hadn’t told her parents what Michelle had said. 

“Em…I suppose so. You know how these things are…” said Erin extremely awkwardly, turning pink in the face. 

“Is Clare in?” said Michelle as politely as possible, already wanting the conversation to be over.

“Aye, she’s just upstairs with her friend,” replied Geraldine.

Michelle heard Erin draw a sharp intake of breath beside her. The two didn’t dare look at each other, but they knew they were both thinking the same thing. There was only one person who could be Clare’s “friend”.

_She hasn’t told them._

They walked upstairs to Clare’s room and paused outside the door, hearing the sound of Clare and Kayleigh laughing. Michelle braced herself for the uncomfortable situation that was about to ensue and thought she’d rather be at Mass than here.

Erin knocked quickly and pushed open the door. The smiles immediately vanished off the girls’ faces as they saw Michelle. 

“What’s _she_ doing here?” asked Kayleigh.

“I don’t know,” said Clare, trying to be cold, although they could hear the hurt beneath her façade of anger.

Michelle had no intention of prolonging this ordeal. She was hoping that apologizing to Clare would relieve the anxiety that had taken root in the back of her mind for reasons she didn’t understand. She looked into their faces. While it was brutal to meet Kayleigh’s piercing glare, Michelle was finding it impossible to look into Clare’s disappointed blue eyes.

“I’m here to apologize. I was a complete arsehole to you all night, Kayleigh, and the remark I made to yous about the closet was a fuckin awful thing to say. I was completely steamin, and broke to the bone about the whole ‘boking in the plant in front of everyone in Derry’ business, but anyway…that’s no excuse.”

Clare was now looking at the floor and Kayleigh was continuing to stare Michelle down as if she was expecting her to say more.

_Christ, does she want me to get on my knees and grovel?_

“Uh, I suppose I want to clear up as well, that I really do support gays. I know it was a shit thing to say last night but, I really don’t give a fuck if fellas fancy dicks or girls enjoy fannies. It’s all cool with-”

Michelle was scarlet in the face by this point and she could tell Kayleigh was relishing it.

“Alright, that’ll do,” Kayleigh said, putting Michelle out of her misery. “Look, I know you don’t hate gays. You’re an arsehole, but I know Clare wouldn’t be friends with you if you were a homophobe.”

Michelle nodded, unsure if this meant they’d accepted her apology. There was a dreadfully awkward silence as no one spoke for a moment. 

“Fair enough, I guess,” said Kayleigh finally. “I respect someone who can own up to her shit at least.”

“Aye just watch yourself from now on, Michelle,” advised Clare. 

“Um, Clare,” said Erin in a whisper, peering behind her nervously. “Do your parents not know you have a girlfriend? Your Ma said you were in here with your friend.”

Clare looked at Kayleigh and heaved a long sigh, as if she’d rather not discuss the matter.

“It’s ok, you don’t have to-”

“No, they don’t know.” said Clare, quiet but defiant. “I told them about the gay thing, and I know I told you all they took it well. I should have said, well enough. They weren’t mad exactly, but I could tell they were…disappointed.”

“They’re still hoping she’ll grow out of it, like. They said they’ll pray for her.” said Kayleigh, holding Clare’s hand for support.

“Aye,” said Clare, now looking quite sad. “We basically don’t speak of it. I know they love me, but they don’t fully understand. Not many people around here really do, to be honest. Anyway, while they couldn’t really punish me for being a lesbian, me _choosing_ to go out with a girl…I don’t know what would happen.”

“And MY parents would throw me out in the street if they even knew I was gay at all,” said Kaleigh.

“Jesus…” said Erin, looking sympathetically at the pair of them. “Sorry if this is out of line, but I figured you may have supportive family on account of how you kissed Clare in front of everyone. Aren’t you… afraid it’ll get back to them? Folks can’t keep a secret here.”

‘I’ll just lie my hole off.” Kayleigh replied. Then, looking slightly embarrassed, she said “But you’re right, I probably shouldn’t have done that. I was just drunk, like. And I couldn’t stop myself. I just fancy Clare so much, I got carried away.”

She was looking at Clare again with utmost adoration and it took everything within Michelle not to pull a face. She scolded herself silently. Why was she so disgusted by the sight of Clare and Kayleigh being affectionate? After all, they had just poured their hearts out about their struggles. She shook her head and told herself it was because she just didn’t enjoy public displays of affection in general. Clare and Kayleigh looked at her. 

“Ach, sorry, I was in a world of my own. I suppose I was just thinking, if yous ever run into trouble with your parents, you can maybe stay round mine. Clare, you know my parents are stern in their own ways, but they still think James is gay and it’s alright by them.”

Clare looked genuinely moved, and thanked Michelle. Kayleigh surveyed her with a hint of suspicion, but nonetheless said,

“You might be alright after all.”

Michelle shrugged. “I know I complain about my Ma but I’m lucky I have some of the few parents in Derry who support gays.” She stopped abruptly.

_Why are you lucky? What the fuck are you on about?_

She realized the others had confused looks on their faces. Shit.

“Ach, you know. Lucky for wee James I mean,” she said, forcing an unconvincing laugh. “And lucky I’m friends with the only lesbian couple in Derry in case yous ever find yourselves in a situation.” 

_Eejit, you’re making it worse._

“Well let’s hope it never comes to that, aye?” said Erin, trying to sound hopeful. There was a strange tension in the room now and Michelle wanted to get out of there. 

“Right well, Erin and I’ll leave you two alone then,” she said. “Thanks again for being cool about me making a fucking arse of myself. See you around.” She was trying to sound laid-back, and was aware she sounded anything but. 

Clare bid them goodbye and Kayleigh simply nodded. Michelle didn’t like the way the girl was watching her, as if she were trying to work something out. Normally, she’d call someone out for staring at her like that, but she was going to tread much more carefully around Kayleigh for the foreseeable future. 

Erin and Michelle headed home, Erin chatting away about whatever the fuck. Michelle didn’t hear a word of it. She was feeling unwell in a way that had nothing to do with her excessive drinking the night before. Her brain was racing and heart pounding. She felt like someone was following her, getting closer and closer and leaving her nowhere to hide. 


	4. liquor in my veins, panic on my mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kayleigh inadvertently helps Michelle come to a realization. Michelle's efforts to hide her struggles from her friends are proving to be less successful than she hoped.

Over the next few weeks, the girls busied themselves with their summer jobs. Erin was in charge of watching two small children while their parents worked, James was doing various lawncare tasks, and Orla had been hired at the pizza place the Quinns had ordered from after their ban from the chippy (if for no other reason than her family’s Friday-night loyalty for several months until Fionnula relented). 

As for Michelle, she had started working at a convenience store, and convenient it was, because they sold a wide variety of liquor. She had to be very careful, because if she stole more than a couple bottles a week, her manager would notice during inventory, she’d get fired, and her Ma would kick her hole into the next century. She could of course prevent all that if she just stopped stealing the drinks, but she wasn’t really considering that option at the moment. Truthfully, Michelle was beginning to get a wee bit worried about her alcohol consumption levels, but she’d never admit that to anyone. Hell, she hadn’t even let on that she was drinking more than usual. By now, she could effectively conceal it so that none of her friends or family noticed. She fully intended to keep it that way, so she started to make subtle efforts to put some distance between herself and those who cared about her. 

As with the drinking, she was good at hiding it. She wasn’t bailing out every time her friends got together, just a few times. She wasn’t skipping dinner too often, just a couple times a week. Michelle knew where to draw the line to prevent anyone from noticing something was amiss. The less time she spent with them, the less likely it was they’d notice the increase in her drinking. More importantly, it should prevent them from picking up on the fact that she’d been stressed out of her mind about all the fucked-up thoughts she was having. She wanted to be enjoying her summer before Year 13, but instead found herself in a state of constant worry about the nagging voice in her head growing louder and louder. The voice that she was determined to drown out with a combination of sheer willpower and alcohol. 

_That was lies when I tried to tell everyone at Our Lady Immaculate that I was a lesbian. Fucking lies_.

It was her 18th birthday coming up and she didn’t want everyone to make a big fucking deal of it, but of course they insisted. Not only would she be unable to excuse herself early, but she’d have to be the center of attention. Not ideal. Her parents had made her a nice dinner, which she tried to show genuine appreciation for, while thinking inwardly that she didn’t deserve a class dinner. Then she and James had invited the girls over, since her parents were working nights. She’d had to invite Kayleigh as well as Clare, which she wasn’t buzzin about as the presence of the two of them together made her inner voice exponentially louder. When the gang arrived that night, Michelle tried her best to seem relaxed, which was only achievable because she already had a couple drinks in her.

“Alright, what about ye?” she asked as her friends arrived. 

“Happy birthday!!” squealed Erin. “I can’t believe you’re 18!”

“Aye, me either. Can you lot believe I survived this long?”

“Ach, don’t say that!” said Clare. Michelle felt a pang of guilt. She’d usually roll her eyes at Clare for cacking herself over harmless jokes, but lately she felt uncomfortable when her anxious friend reacted adversely to her crass comments. She didn’t want to think about why.

“She’s only joking Clare, you know the mouth on her,” said Kayleigh.

“We got you this to celebrate!” said Orla, who was wearing the hat from her pizza shop uniform despite not being at work. It had become regular fixture in her wardrobe because she’d decided it “suited her head”.

She held out a rather expensive-looking bottle of wine. 

“Aunt Mary had to actually buy it because, well, you’re the first one of us to be 18. But we all paid her back with our job money!” she boasted. 

“That’s class wine, Michelle,” added Erin. “Not like that cheap shite from the store you work at,” she laughed. 

_The cheap shite gets the job done all the same though._

“Ach, thanks girls, you shouldn’t have bothered.”

“You’re all such enablers,” laughed James. Michelle’s heart skipped a beat, before she realized that James was likely just making a general joke instead of specifically referencing her recent habits. 

“Shut up, dicko,” she said, trying to sound as confident as usual. However, James, ever the observant fella, detected the insecurity in her demeanor. A flicker of concern briefly crossed his face, before he shrugged it off and the girls made their way into the living room. 

They opened the wine and shared it, and seeing as one bottle of wine between six people only allowed for them to have about one glass each, Michelle quickly brought out an assortment of other drinks. The gang spent the next couple hours talking and reminiscing about their years in school together, hardly believing they were headed for Upper Sixth in the fall.

“I remember a little over a year ago, I was so scared to be a lesbian,” said Clare. “I never thought I’d tell anyone. Look how far I’ve come!” she smiled at Kayleigh. Michelle had never seen any of her friends look at someone the way Clare was looking at her girlfriend right now. It was hard to comprehend and made her feel strangely unsettled. As mean as it sounded, she never could picture any of the group dating someone except for her and Erin. But she felt like an arsehole for thinking it now, as she saw how happy someone was to be dating Clare. And after all, it wasn’t as if Michelle had ever managed to get anyone to go steady with her. 

“I still think it’s so class that you both got the same job! What are the odds that two lesbians end up in the same place?” said Orla.

“It’s still blowing her mind a bit that lesbians really do exist,” teased Erin, and the group laughed except Kayleigh, who looked confused. Michelle noticed she also looked too infatuated with Clare to care much about the group’s inside jokes she wasn’t privy to.

“I mean, she’s right, we are really lucky,” said Kayleigh, kissing Clare on the cheek. Clare’s face was already a bit rosy due to the wine, and she blushed more intensely still.

“Although,” she continued. “I ought to clarify something for you all. I’m not exactly a lesbian. I’m bisexual.”

The girls looked at her slightly confused, but James seemed to understand.

“I see, so you’re interested in both,” he said. 

“Aye,” Kayleigh nodded.

“Oh, good for you!” said Erin, determined to never again be caught saying anything unaccepting because she still felt guilty about her initial response to Clare’s coming out. 

“Fascinating…” said Orla in her typical dreamy tone, apparently having just had her mind blown all over again about the existence of another sexuality.

Michelle felt like her chest was very tight suddenly. 

“That’s a real thing?” she asked, more to herself than anyone, although it slipped out louder than intended.

“Ugh, wise up,” said Kayleigh as she shot an irritated look at her, and Michelle hastily moved to correct herself.

“Ach, no, I believe you, it’s just…I didn’t know that was possible…”

“Honestly, sometimes it seems like people live under a rock here,” sighed Kayleigh, prompting indignant responses from the girls. Lucky for James, they missed his nod of agreement.

“No offense girls,” she laughed. “It’s just, of COURSE someone can fancy both. Is it really that hard to imagine? If you ask me, there are a lot of people who are bisexual who just haven’t realized because no one talks about it.” 

“Well, that’s the whole problem!” agreed Clare. “Most folks don’t even like to acknowledge gays and lesbians exist, never mind anything else. I swear sometimes I don’t think anyone in Derry understands besides the people in this room.”

“Sure, people don’t always understand things unless they’ve experienced them personally,” said James.

Michelle was only half listening by this point as there was a strange ringing in her ears now. She suddenly felt as though it was boiling hot. She felt sure they must be able to hear her heartbeat now, it was pounding so hard. For the love of God, why wouldn’t Kayleigh stop looking at her? Desperate to shift attention away from herself, and aggravated at James for being so sage all the time, she moved in on her easiest target. 

“That explains why _you_ understand these things so fuckin well then, eh James?” she said, trying her hardest to sound lighthearted in order to avoid a repeat of the events of the party. She was not so lucky, as Kayleigh’s inherent distrust of Michelle reared its head again. 

“Michelle,” she said slowly, with a smirk on her face that made Michelle’s blood run cold in anticipation of what she was about to say. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were-”

Michelle couldn’t allow her to utter another word.

“Stop!” she shouted, trying to rein in the situation so that she was the one in control, a feat that was made more difficult on account of her being the most intoxicated one in the room yet again.

“You _don’t_ know better, that’s the thing! You don’t know us well besides Clare, and you certainly don’t fuckin know me. I know James isn’t gay, I’m just takin the piss. And if he were, it would be grand, as I’ve made clear to you. So stop jumping down my throat!”

She felt very nauseated again and hated the way they were all looking at her. 

Kayleigh raised her hands in a gesture of surrender. 

“Alright, fair enough. I shouldn’t have made any assumptions.”

Michelle knew Kayleigh wasn’t referring to assumptions related to her treatment of James, and now wanted nothing more than for her and the other girls to head home.

“Um, so what are yous up to tomorrow then?” she asked, hoping it would prompt them to shift themselves. 

“Nothing. It’s Saturday, so I’m off the hook when it comes to the wains. It’s a relief truth be told. They’re ruined, whine about everything. Everyone else has got work though,” said Erin. As she spoke, she yawned and looked all too comfortable for Michelle’s liking. She glanced at the clock. Shit, how was it already after midnight? They’d all get the wooden spoon if they returned home this late.

“Will your parents be raging if they come home in the morning and Kayleigh’s here too?” asked Clare anxiously. 

Michelle concentrated all her effort on stifling a groan. 

“No, it’s grand, like I told you before, they don’t mind the gay thing.”

“We won’t get up to any funny business if that’s what you’re thinking,” said Kayleigh.

It hadn’t been what Michelle was thinking, but now it was. She genuinely feared she might boke again and took several deep breaths. 

“We’ll all just keep to our bedrooms, they won’t even notice in the morning,” said James, waving his hand like it was no bother at all.

“Erin and Orla, you’ll sleep in my room. And Clare and Kayleigh can go with James,” Michelle ordered curtly.

“Is everything alright?” asked Erin.

“Aye, I’ve just drank too much again.” Michelle replied, thinking about how dreadful it would be to wake up to the sight of Clare and Kayleigh next to each other.

“Right, well you two can follow me then,” said James briskly. She almost felt bad for the poor fecker having to third wheel the pair of them, but better him than her.

Erin began to clear away all the empty containers of alcohol, and Michelle realized not only how many there were, but how many of them were hers. She stood up and promptly stumbled, feeling very dizzy. Orla reached out and gently steadied her.

“Christ,” Michelle muttered. “Maybe I need to cut back a wee bit, look at the state of me.”

“Ach, it’s your 18th birthday, it’s not a big deal,” said Erin as she marched all the containers out to the bin.

Orla was rubbing Michelle’s back and staring at her with something like concern. Normally Michelle would pull away and give Orla the usual polite but firm reminder about boundaries, but in the moment, it was oddly comforting.

Erin returned and looked briefly between her cousin and Michelle. Michelle knew that look all too well; that face Erin made when she was about to say something she thought was very important. She put her hands on her hips and opened her mouth to begin speaking.

Out of the corner of Michelle’s eye, she saw Orla shake her head at Erin very quickly. She probably wouldn’t have noticed the movement if Orla hadn’t been wearing that damn cap. Erin closed her mouth.

“What the fuck are you two on about?” snapped Michelle. “Have you got something to say?”

“What? Oh, no, um, I was just gonna ask if you needed us to uh, take care of anything else before we go to bed.” Erin lied pathetically, cowering under the look Michelle was giving her.

“Alright, you tell me, then. I saw you shake your head.” Michelle demanded of Orla, knowing she was completely incapable of lying on the spot. Orla’s eyes grew very wide and she merely looked back at Erin. Michelle felt herself grow irrationally furious at the pair of them. 

“For fuck’s sake, you’re both useless!” 

“Jesus Christ, forget it alright?” said Erin. “It wasn’t important.”

“Aye now’s not a good time,” said Orla, looking skittish.

“Fine, don’t tell me. I don’t give a fuck.” said Michelle, turning around and heading upstairs. She knew for sure now, they were all aware that something was going on with her, and worse, they had apparently been talking about it when she wasn’t around. She walked past James’ room and heard him laughing with Clare and Kayleigh, and had the urge to throttle every last one of her friends. She headed to bed knowing that she was facing more than just another hangover in the morning. Everything was coming apart.


	5. so selfish were my footsteps, and so foolish are they now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James tries to share some of the group's concerns with Michelle. Later, the girls find themselves in a very frightening predicament.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: homophobic slurs 
> 
> I've been eager to get these next two chapers out, because it's a major turning point in the story. These are heavy chapters including a lot of homophobia, so heads up!

In the morning, Michelle woke up too early, cursing the sunrise and the day it brought. Among all the other physical implications of her excessive alcohol consumption, it seemed to be disrupting her sleep cycles. She always wanted to sleep for days after a night of heavy drinking, but instead woke within a few short hours - sometimes brutally hungover, sometimes still drunk, always miserable. She had an awful taste in her mouth and crept over Erin and Orla to head down to the kitchen for some water. 

Before she entered the room, she could hear and smell that someone was cooking. She paused for a moment, as she was not currently feeling up to interacting with her parents. But they should have only just arrived home from work a bit ago, and they usually went straight to bed after night shifts. She peered around the corner and saw James at the stove, wearing an apron and whistling to himself. 

“Nice apron, dickweed,” she said, doing her best to force a smile. She had recently been feeling a lot of morning-after-drinking guilt about the shitty things she said to people while under the influence, and today was no exception.

“Surprised you’re up so early,” he said, smiling back, although his too looked forced.

“Aye, I can’t really sleep right after drinking that much. It fucks with my brain, like.”

“Yeah, I suppose alcohol will do that,” said James. He looked serious, like he had something weighing on his mind that he wanted to say. Why did all her friends look like that lately? Especially in that apron; he looked like a parent about to scold a child.

“Do you fancy some coffee? I was just about to make some,” he said. 

“That’d be grand,” Michelle said, sitting down at the table and putting her head in her hands. The cousins didn’t speak for a few minutes while James finished cooking. When the coffee was ready, he poured them both a cup and sat down beside her. He looked like he wanted to discuss something important and was trying to find the right way to begin. She decided for him.

“Erin and Orla were being fuckin weird last night after you lot went upstairs,” she began. James cringed slightly and stared down into his mug. “They made like they were gonna tell me something, or ask me something, and then they wouldn’t fuckin say it.” She looked at him, trying to read his face.

“Why do I have an idea you know what that was about?”

James gave a long sigh, a million thoughts running through his head. He wished Erin hadn’t tried to broach the subject without him there. But he knew how desperately she wanted to get Michelle to open up to them. He felt the same. It had probably seemed like a good opportunity while Clare and Kayleigh were otherwise occupied, but Michelle had been so drunk…

He had partially been hoping Michelle would get out of bed today and unconvincingly pretend to be fine, as he could tell she had been doing since the day after the end-of school-party. He knew this conversation was going to happen sooner or later, except he wasn’t expecting it to be a one-on-one between the two of them. Michelle had fortunately been somewhat nicer to him the past half-year following the day he nearly left. However, whatever she had been going through lately had been causing her to lash out at people left and right, and James wasn’t overly eager to begin his day by being cursed at. 

He had been at the Quinns’ house the other day discussing Michelle’s recent strange behavior with Erin, particularly in regards to the happy couple sleeping in his room upstairs. He had awoken this morning to find that they had fallen asleep spooning, and thanked God they were in a separate room from his cousin. Michelle fancied herself the only good liar in the group, but she had never exactly been a master of subtlety, and even though she hated talking about her feelings, they always made their way to the surface one way or another. Did she really think the others wouldn’t notice? 

James realized Michelle was looking at him impatiently as he tried to decide what to say. Ultimately, he couldn’t bring himself to address the biggest elephant in the room without the others to back him up, so he chose the easier route.

“Well, the other day after work, I stopped by the Quinns’. I was telling Erin and Orla that I’m…getting concerned about how much you’re drinking.”

He could see Michelle visibly relax, and he continued, hoping whatever he said would align with anything Erin and Orla may have suggested last night. 

“We live together. I couldn’t help but notice all the bottles you’ve been sneaking home from the convenience store. You’re drinking just about every night now. I’m worried you’ll be fired from the store, but it’s also just not great for your health. And I think you’ve been feeling that too,” he finished.

He couldn’t meet Michelle’s eyes. It wasn’t technically a lie – they WERE concerned about her alcohol intake, but he was certainly withholding the truth. 

“That’s all you were cacking yourselves over?” she asked cautiously.

James nodded, making eye contact with her in hopes it would make him more convincing. Luckily, Michelle seemed too relieved to notice how shifty James looked. He could practically see the wheels turning in her head as well.

Michelle took a deep breath. 

“Aye, if I’m being honest, you’re right. I’m getting out of control. I think that’s what Erin and Orla were getting at, because I was in a right fuckin state last night.”

“We’re not judging you,” said James, “We just don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret, I suppose.”

“Well, I appreciate that. I’ll work on it. Thanks for not being a prick about it or telling my Ma and Da.”

She said it with an air of someone finished with a discussion, and stood up to help herself to some of the breakfast that James had prepared. Part of him was wishing he could have brought up the topic of questioning sexuality. As far as he was concerned, the sooner Michelle started talking to someone about it, the better. But it felt more like the sort of thing they should wait for her to mention first, and that clearly wasn’t happening yet based on how relieved she looked. He felt sorry for Michelle in a way - so unaware of how transparent she was…

Michelle was thankful to be off the hook for now. She had convinced herself that they were all gossiping about her being a lezzer, or worse still, her being jealous of Clare and Kayleigh. She must have been overly paranoid. How could they have been sure she wasn’t straight when SHE still wasn’t sure what her own deal was. She hoped that if she pretended to care about this whole “drinking too much” carry-on, they might get off her back. She’d ease up a wee bit (not too much, that would be unbearable), and they’d think she was doing better, and stop watching her so closely. When the rest of the girls came downstairs, she didn’t notice Erin lock eyes with James, or the subtle head shake James offered in response.

The gang walked their familiar streets one evening the following week, talking and laughing. Michelle was smoking a cigarette, having told her friends that the nicotine curbed her appetite for liquor, which was a load of balls. Clare had made a comment about trading one addiction for another, which was probably an accurate assessment. Or rather, it would have been if Michelle had actually “traded in” drinking. Now, she was just doing it when her friends weren’t looking, and reining it in a bit so it wouldn’t be as evident. She was drinking just enough to help her cope, what was the harm in that? 

Clare and Kayleigh were holding hands, something that they did frequently without attracting much attention. Clare had predictably been nervous about it at first, but Kayleigh reassured her that people wouldn’t necessarily assume anything other than friendship.

“And let people say whatever the fuck they want. I won’t let anything happen to you.” Kayleigh had promised.

The sun had just gone down when the group approached a trio of lads, whose names they didn’t know, although they recognized them from around town. Michelle was pretty sure they had just finished Year 11 at Christian Brother Boys. There was a rather shrimpy one, another who was taller but lean, and a third positively enormous fella, who was both very tall and approximately as wide as two Big Mandys. They were smoking, drinking beers, and laughing loudly, but fell quiet as the girls approached them. The large one surveyed them with a lecherous gaze while the two smaller ones began to whistle at the girls and catcall, quite obviously intoxicated. 

Clare tensed up and tried to pull her hand out of Kayleigh’s, but her girlfriend wouldn’t let go, and resolutely gripped Clare’s hand harder still. The boys were jeering, enjoying making the girls uncomfortable. 

“Kayleigh, let go of me, _now_ ,” Clare hissed, sounding terrified. But it was too late. Michelle turned to look into the lads’ faces and saw that the small one was watching them with a hostile look in his narrowed eyes. She knew exactly what was about to come out of his mouth before it did, and despite her best efforts, felt her temper rising to dangerous levels.

“Oy!” he yelled. “Fucking dykes!”

Michelle turned on her heel, and took several steps towards them. 

“You arseholes mind shutting the fuck up?” she said.

“Not likely with shit like this happening on our street. Can you lads believe this?” said the tall skinny one, sneering at Clare and Kayleigh. The wide-set boy guffawed and the small one shook his head, pulling a face of utter disgust.

Michelle opened her mouth to insult them again, when Kayleigh spoke beside her.

“Care to explain how we’re bothering you?”

“We see you band of freaks around all the time, at the shops, at the chippy, everywhere. Fucking disgraceful, the lot of you. Lasses holding hands, and one man amongst girls. I assume he’s a fruit as well?” said the taller boy again.

“I’ve even seen yous at church.” said the heavyset boy, speaking in a surprisingly soft, low voice. “That doesn’t add up, faggots.”

Michelle tried to steady her breathing, struggling to contain her rage. She wanted to put her hands around the puny fucker’s throat, but she didn’t want to involve the rest of her friends in a physical altercation when one of the aggressors looked like he could beat the shit out of them in his sleep. She could hear Clare whimpering behind Kayleigh, and out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that her wee lesbian friend was shaking in fear.

_How dare they do this to her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger...
> 
> It was somewhat of a relief to give James POV for a bit becuase poor Michelle has been having such a rough time. Thanks as always for commenting, and please continue letting me know what you think! I really appreciate it! :)


	6. let me give you my heart, let me give you my tears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Right off the bat is the graphic depiction of violence mentioned in the tags. It's nothing too bad, but I figured I'd put the warning on anyway, especially because it's homophobia-related violence.

“How about you all just mind your business and fuck off,” said Kayleigh.

“How about you burn in hell, you disgusting animals,” said the smallest lad, before he spat on the ground at Kayleigh’s feet.

Something snapped within Michelle and blind rage overtook all self-control. She moved without conscious thought as she closed the gap between her and the boys, reacting faster than they were able to in their inebriated condition. She tackled the miniature motherfucker, and both of them hit the ground hard, with her still on top. She clenched her fist and brought it down on the boy’s nose, immediately feeling warm blood on her knuckles and hearing his head crack against the ground. She was vaguely aware of someone screaming behind her. She raised her fist to strike again, not thinking, only wanting to cause him more pain than he caused her and her friends.

However, before she could land another punch, she was suddenly in a world of agony. The gigantic boy had smashed the bottle of beer he was holding over Michelle’s head. In the same instant, to her horror, she felt herself being lifted off the smallest lad. Totally disoriented, she was unable to fight it, and he threw her to the ground as easily as if she were a ragdoll. She cried out in pain as she hit the ground, and saw him step towards her, getting ready to pummel her into a pulp. She scrunched her eyes shut in anticipation and fleetingly wondered if this is how she would die.

Michelle heard more screaming and braced herself for the blows, but they didn’t come. Instead, there was a deep grunt and a very heavy thud, followed by the sounds of all of her friends and the boys fighting, yelling, and swearing. For what felt like an hour, but was probably no more than a minute or so, she lay there frozen in terror. Her hand was on her head to try to stem the bleeding where the bottle made contact. She knew she needed to go help them, but she found that she couldn’t move. After the brutally long couple of minutes, she cautiously opened her eyes and was met with a scene of pure chaos. 

While the lads may have been outnumbered, they appeared to be absolutely unhinged. James and Orla were attempting, with considerable difficulty, to subdue the big one. Michelle looked on helplessly as he struck them with enough force to incapacitate someone his own size. Meanwhile, Erin and Kayleigh tussled with the tall, thin one, and she swore she saw him trying to bite them. The one Michelle had punched was still writhing on the ground clutching his nose. She then spotted Clare, who was cowering on the other side of the street, pulling at her own hair and sobbing. Michelle felt like her heart was being ripped in two; the sight of Clare hurt as much as anything else. 

She registered a couple of voices that didn’t belong to any of the teens and only suddenly remembered they were on a street with lots of people around. The screaming and fighting had disrupted the residents’ quiet evening, and several people had now come to intervene. A couple of men pulled the large lad apart from Orla and James, while another separated Erin and Kayleigh from the skinny one. A nervous looking older woman moved to comfort Clare. As Michelle dragged herself to her feet, she pulled her hand away from her scalp and blood dripped down her face. She felt dizzy but fought to remain upright.

“What in under Christ is going on here!?” bellowed one of the men.

None of the teens answered; they were all catching their breath or reorienting themselves to their surroundings. The runty one finally sat up, looking livid.

“What are you playing at? You bunch of hellions!” yelled a middle-aged man, who was struggling along with another to hold back the massive boy.

“That psycho bitch attacked me!!” screamed the small lad, pointing at Michelle. She saw that he was crying. Pussy.

All of Michelle’s friends erupted in protest. She walked towards the middle-aged man.

“AYE, I DID PUNCH HIM!” she said, yelling over everyone else. They all fell silent, frightened at the sight of her bloody face. All except Clare, who was crying uncontrollably.

“I hit that pathetic wee fucker! I was defending my friends. Him and his mates yelled after us, and they were being a disrespectful shower of shites. We asked them to knock it off, but they fucking didn’t. This is their fault.”

“She’s right, she was defending me,” said Kayleigh, panting. “Those three objectified us, antagonized us, called us slurs and spat at me.”

The men were looking between them uneasily, unsure what to believe. They didn’t ask what Kayleigh meant by “slurs”. They noted the broken bottle on the ground and the blood congealing on Michelle’s forehead.

“You’d all best clear out of here,” said one of the men. He let go of the large boy. “You three lads, shift yourselves. You should know better than to be brawling with girls.”

The boys started to walk away, looking furious. The bloody-nosed one turned around, not wanting the girls to have the last word.

“I better not see any of you on this street again, you dirty bunch of dykes!”

The neighborhood residents looked uncomfortably around at the girls. Now that the d-word had been introduced, they seemed keen to leave them to their own devices. 

“Um, thank you for helping us out of that,” said James, who was slightly doubled over and wincing. 

The people muttered something about it being no bother, and something else about how the gang “best behave themselves from now on,” before heading back inside their homes.

The friends made their way over to comfort Clare, who was now sitting in a huddle on the ground with her arms around her knees.

“Come on sweetheart,” said Kayleigh, crouching down. “I know it was scary, but it’s alright, they’re gone.”

Clare looked up at her girlfriend, and the fear and sadness in her eyes gave way to something else.

“Don’t touch me!!” She yelled, sounding quite shrill. “Get away from me!! They wouldn’t have bothered us if you would have just let go of my hand like I asked!!”

Kayleigh turned very pale and stood back up, looking mortified.

Clare looked from her girlfriend to Michelle and stood up. Her face was bright red and her eyes were still filled with tears. She looked back and forth between them, trying to decide who to unload on.

“I KNEW THEY WERE BAD NEWS!! WHY COULDN’T WE HAVE JUST KEPT WALKING?” she screeched. She rounded on Kayleigh.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU LISTEN TO ME? HAVEN’T I BEEN TELLING YOU WE NEED TO BE MORE CAREFUL? HAVEN’T I BEEN TELLING YOU THAT FOLKS DON’T LIKE OUR KIND HERE?”

She then turned to Michelle.

“AND YOU! WHAT THE HELL IS THE MATTER WITH YOU? ANY ONE OF US COULD HAVE BEEN SERIOUSLY HURT! WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS FUCKING EVERYTHING UP FOR US?”

The words were like a sucker punch to the stomach for Michelle, but the worst part of this was seeing Clare in so much pain. 

Clare dissolved into loud, heavy sobs again, taking shaky, gasping breaths. Michelle thought she had seen Clare upset countless times before, but nothing had compared to this. She couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t make things worse. She looked over at Kayleigh next to her and saw a tear silently run down the girl’s face. 

Michelle’s head was throbbing and she felt like her brain wasn’t functioning well enough to even think about how to proceed from here. 

_How much of this would they tell their parents?_

_Would it get back to them anyway?_

At a loss, she turned around and looked to her other three friends, hoping someone would have an idea what to do. Although they were trying not to complain, she could see that James and Orla were clearly feeling the effects of their beating. She turned to Erin, who glanced at Michelle’s forehead and grimaced.

“I- I think we should probably get out of here,” said Erin, peering nervously up at a house where an old woman with a suspicious expression was watching them.

“Right, um, where do we go?” asked Michelle, gesturing at her bloody forehead and feeling totally numb.

“Martin and Deirdre aren’t working tonight…they’ll be home,” James groaned.

“Fuck,” said Michelle quietly. She felt an unusual sensation in her chest and her throat tightened. It had been a long time, but she knew what this preceded and wanted to avoid it at all costs. She hadn’t let her friends see her cry since primary school…

Erin glanced at her watch. She took a deep breath. Someone had to take charge of this situation.

“Right, ok. It’s not actually that late. I know what we can do. I’m sure my Aunt Sarah is at my house, not her own. She always is. Orla’s been carrying a key since she started working, so we’ll let ourselves in there and get washed off.”

She sized up her friends, looking at their various scrapes and injuries. “So, we all got knocked about a bit. Michelle, you have blood on your clothes, so you can borrow something of Orla’s to wear home. If anyone’s bruised, Sarah owns a lot of makeup, so we might be able to cover it.”

The others looked at each other, reassured at the surprisingly sound plan.

“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I really don’t feel like trying to explain this to my parents tonight. Clare and Kayleigh, it would obviously be ideal for yours to not get wind of this at all if possible. Luckily, Clare didn’t get beat up and that lad was pretty scrawny so Kayleigh didn’t get it too bad either. And if any of us do have to tell them at some stage, no one mention exactly what the lads said. Actually, we should maybe agree on a story, so they line up…”

She took note of everyone’s facial expressions, as they were starting to look quite stressed.

“Later of course, once we’ve all had time to calm down.”

The others nodded in agreement. They slowly, painfully began to make their way to Sarah’s house. No one spoke; the only sound was Clare’s on and off crying. They all felt unable to fully process what had happened, and walked like zombies into the empty house and up into the bathroom. They flicked on the harsh bathroom light, and gasped as they looked in the mirror.

The warm glow of the streetlights hadn’t fully illuminated how dreadful they looked, and Michelle was immediately very glad they didn’t decide to go to their respective homes in this condition.

Clare’s face was puffy and blotchy because she had been crying for so long, and she whimpered when she saw it. Erin’s lip was swollen and she and Kayleigh had scratch marks on their faces and necks; the skinny boy had apparently resorted to other methods when he found himself lacking in brute strength. 

The heavyset boy on the other hand, hadn’t been lacking in strength at all, and the others’ mouths dropped open as they surveyed the extent of the bruises that were already forming on Orla and James. 

“Oh God…” breathed Erin as she looked at the purple discoloration on the side of her cousin’s jaw and the startlingly clear image of a handprint wrapped around her upper arm. James, meanwhile, had the beginnings of a black eye. Wincing, he lifted up his shirt and they saw a large black and blue area on his lower ribcage.

“Fuck…” said James, groaning and closing his eyes. 

“My mammy’s makeup isn’t gonna cover all this,” said Orla sadly, looking at James’ eye and rubbing her arm.

Michelle suddenly felt sick as she looked at her cousin and friend, neither of whom would hurt a fly, now covered in bruises because someone had to tackle that fucking gorilla and they happened to be the biggest ones in the group.

_And whose fault is that?_

She then noticed them all staring at her forehead. She had been avoiding looking at her own reflection, but it couldn’t be ignored for long. She made eye contact with herself in the mirror and was greeted with a truly appalling sight.

Her hair, forehead, and one eyebrow were caked with dried blood, and it had run down her face. There were even splatters all over her shirt. She hadn’t remembered bleeding _that_ much, but trying to recall the incident was already a blur. She leaned in closer to the mirror to look at the head wound itself. Luckily, it wasn’t too deep, but it still stung. She looked down at her hands, which were shaking and bloody as well.

Despite the fact that she looked like something out of a fucking horror film, she thought perhaps the worst bit of all was when she looked into her own eyes. She felt like they looked soulless and hollow. She saw the eyes of someone who had been desperately trying to run from the truth. Someone who had been lying to herself and taking out her pain on her loved ones. Someone who had been drowning all her sorrows in alcohol.

It all came crashing down on her at once. She knew deep down that she needed to come clean. But this ordeal had been traumatizing. She made up her mind then.

_If this is the kind of shit gay people have to deal with, I’m not going to be gay._

Michelle wanted to scream, to hit something, to curse at the top of her lungs. Instead, for the first time in a long time, she began to cry. Her shoulders shook and she put her bloodied face in her hands, resigning herself to the sobs that racked her body. She couldn’t bring herself to look at her friends. Any second, she expected to hear someone say that she had brought this on herself, that she had brought this on all of them. 

She was the reason the whole group had gotten involved in this mess, as was always the case. She was the reason her gentlest friends were covered in bruises. She was the reason the girl she cared for most no longer trusted the girlfriend who had made her feel safe. She was the reason Kayleigh might be in danger of being outed to her family. She was the reason for all the group’s problems, and all her own problems. It was all her fault.

She didn’t even hear someone turn on the shower, and she barely registered someone’s comforting hand patting her on the back. She only snapped back to her surroundings when she heard Clare say in a small voice –

“Michelle, look at me,”

Michelle looked up and saw Clare holding out a wet washrag.

“We need to get you cleaned up, ok?” was all Clare said. She spent the next few minutes carefully scrubbing the blood off Michelle’s face while Michelle continued to cry. Clare finally stepped back. 

“That looks a lot better,” she said. “Now we just gotta wash your hair.”

James gestured at the shower.

“Watch the cut on your head. And let someone know if you want it warmer or colder. I’ll leave the room so you can take your shirt off if you want.”

Orla held out one of her t-shirts to Michelle. “You can put this clean one on after you wash your hair,” she said. “And you can sleep over here too, so you don’t have to walk home or talk to your parents tonight.”

“We’ll all stay here with you,” said Erin. “I know you probably don’t want us to, but we want to.”

Michelle was completely stunned by the kindness of her friends. She didn’t sure as hell didn’t think she deserved any of it. It was entirely overwhelming.

“I’m so sorry,” was all she could manage, trying to slow down her breathing and finding herself unable to do so. She became lightheaded and stumbled backwards a bit. James caught her, gritting his teeth at the pain in his side but still carefully lowering her to a seated position on the floor. 

“We know,” said Kayleigh quietly from the doorway, looking down at Michelle.

Michelle wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep for a hundred years. The girls gently but firmly insisted she wash her hair first. It occurred to her that she should probably just take a full shower, but the girls didn’t seem to want to leave her alone in the bathroom. Christ, what did they think she was going to do? Erin carefully removed Michelle’s shirt for her and she leaned her head under the soothing water, wishing it could wash away everything that was wrong with her as easily as the blood in her hair. 

_You’ll never be clean. You’re dirty and disgusting._

She moved automatically as they guided her to a bed, telling her that they would try to be quiet so she could sleep. There was no need. She had never been so thoroughly exhausted. She wished she could sleep forever, because she was utterly prepared to face the fallout from tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my mind, this marks the end of "Part one" of the story. I know this one was very heavy, I'm sorry! I hope the way the girls acted at the end made it a little better. Thank you for following this far!


	7. it's never easy to admit that you've faltered and fallen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michelle tries to come to terms with the consequences of the fight, and finally opens up to someone about her recent struggles.

Michelle’s sleep was plagued by nightmares about thugs wielding beer bottles and spouting homophobic slurs. She awoke early in the morning completely disoriented, her heart racing. She was startled when she realized she couldn’t immediately recall where she was, nor could she piece together the events from the night before in any kind of meaningful sequence. 

Images started flashing across her mind. The expressions of pure hatred on the boys’ faces. That buffoonish prick stomping towards her as she cowered. Clare sobbing. Clare swearing. Her own bloody face and dead eyes staring back at her from the mirror. Fuck.

Michelle didn’t feel rested, but she knew she wasn’t going back to sleep, as the memories of last night had jolted her awake. She gingerly felt the top of her head and wondered how she might go about bandaging a wound on her scalp, but lost that train of thought as it started to fully dawn on her just how fucked she was. 

With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, she supposed there was no point in hoping she and the others would be able to lie to their parents about what had happened. A bunch of folks had witnessed them fighting in the street and heard that bastard call them “dirty dykes”. There was no way something like that wouldn’t get back to their parents in a place like Derry. Clare was going to be in deep shit, and her girlfriend would probably be even worse off. 

Michelle had gotten herself and her friends into some dire situations before, but this was undoubtedly an all-time low. The potential repercussions were horrifying to process. She truly didn’t know how she was going to get through this, and felt it was a strong possibility that they’d stop talking to her entirely. She momentarily considered running away from home and finding somewhere else to stay for a while. 

_Running away from your problems? Sounds about right, you useless fucking coward._

She’d only just remembered that she was in Sarah and Orla’s house. Jesus, was it possible the hit on her head really did give her brain damage? If she was honest though, she hadn’t been thinking clearly for weeks, no doubt due to all the alcohol. Why was she in this room alone? Probably because her friends wanted to let her rest undisturbed, but the cruel voice in her mind was saying it was because they couldn’t stand to be around her a minute longer.

An avalanche of guilt crashed down on her as she remembered how kind her friends had been last night. Thinking about it made her feel worse, somehow. She knew one thing for certain – she couldn’t face them, especially Clare. She got up and made a half-assed attempt to make the bed, before heading downstairs as quietly as she could. To her relief, there was no one else awake, and she left the house and made her way home.

Michelle walked into her house on autopilot, still physically feeling horrible and not remotely in the mood to speak to her mother. Unfortunately, Deirdre had other ideas as Michelle tried to make her way to her bedroom.

“Stall the ball! Don’t think you’re about to sulk away without explaining yourself to me!” she called after Michelle, who winced and wished her mother would keep her voice down.

“What do you want?”

“I received a very strange call from Mary Quinn last night. She said Erin came round _all alone_ to tell her that ‘somethin had happened’ and that the lot of you would be sleeping in Sarah’s house. And then she refused to let Mary go over and check on ye!”

Michelle groaned inwardly. She supposed they had to alert their parents somehow that they weren’t coming home last night, but in what world was Mary Quinn going to accept _that_ as a satisfactory explanation.

“Ehm…then what did Mary say?”

“What are you playing at, Michelle?!” yelled Deirdre, her temper rising.

“Listen, I was probably already in bed by that point! I don’t know what Erin said to her Ma!”

“What do you mean you were in bed? Were you girls doing drugs? I swear if you were doing drugs, I’ll make you wish you’d never been born. And what in under God are you wearing? You hate tie-dye! And where’s James?”

“Deirdre! That’s enough, for feck’s sake. I’m trying to read my paper here!” barked Martin from the living room.

Under different circumstances, Michelle might have found it funny that her Ma had mentioned her attire before asking about James. However, she was now lacking the stamina to even talk back to her mother. She never thought she’d see the day. 

“We had…” she closed her eyes and exhaled deeply, not wanting to say it. Not wanting to say anything. “a wee bit of a situation last night. We got into a spot of bother with some lads…”

Her mother raised an eyebrow. She didn’t look sympathetic, only her usual brand of stern. Michelle couldn’t deal with this right now. 

“Look, James can tell you when he gets here. Fair warning, he looks a right state. I feel like shit, so I’m going to lie down. Don’t try to talk to me.”

With that, she turned around and ignored Deirdre’s demands that she come back and explain. She slammed the door to her room, crawled into bed with her shoes still on, and fell into another restless sleep.

Michelle awoke several hours later, her eyes adjusting to the mid-day sun and the form of her cousin standing over her, carrying two cups of tea. She chastised him reflexively.

“Jesus, James! You just let yourself in? I was sleeping!”. She immediately regretted it when she took in the sight of his black eye, which looked even darker now.

James sighed. “Deirdre said you’d been in here since about 8 this morning and that was over 4 hours ago.”

“Ach I’m sorry. I’m still a bit…I dunno…” What was she? Jumpy? Traumatized?

She reached out and gratefully took the tea from his hands. He sat down and sipped his own, looking not altogether eager to begin speaking. She thought about all the questions she had for him, and she wasn’t sure if she was prepared to hear some of the answers. She started with the easiest one.

“How are you feeling then?”

James shrugged. “I’m fine. Sore, but nothing too bad.” He took another sip. “Mostly I’m just…worried.”

“About Clare and Kayleigh?”

“About everyone, I guess.”

She could sense him pitying her, which she couldn’t stand. But it wasn’t the time for an argument. He was by her side right now, so he might be the only person on earth who didn’t hate her. God, why did James have to be so decent? Why was she so mean to him for so long?

“Look,” she began again. “First of all, I’m sorry you got your holes kicked by that big beefy bastard on account of me. You didn’t have to-”

“Yes, we did.” James cut across, looking very serious. “We had no choice. It was really scary from where we were stood, Michelle. I dunno if you saw, but he was still holding a shard of the bottle, and the look on his face…” He stared into space, looking frightened just thinking about it.

“It would have been really bad. For a moment I thought he might…” the words died in his throat, but he didn’t need to finish for her to know what he meant. 

Michelle shivered involuntarily and remembered how powerless she felt when the lad effortlessly threw her to the ground. She closed her eyes, and saw him gripping the glass shard and swinging it down towards her neck.

“Fuck,” she said, sitting up. “Why do I feel bokey?”

“No, I didn’t mean to upset you!” said James. “I just got caught up remembering how scared I was. The important thing is, that _didn’t_ happen. We’re all really lucky we weren’t hurt worse.”

With a twinge of regret, Michelle recalled all the times she hadn’t taken James and Orla very seriously (which was realistically, almost every moment she’d ever spent in their presence). As she looked at her cousin now, she saw him in a different light than ever before. She wished she could believe she would have been as courageous if the roles were reversed.

“No, James. Credit where credit’s due. It wasn’t luck, it took serious fucking balls. I hope I can repay the favor someday. In the meantime, you have permission to remind me of this every time I try to take the piss out of you for the rest of our lives.”

James smiled appreciatively at the genuine complement, but there was a sad look in his eyes. They had gotten the easy part out of the way. They both knew she’d been avoiding talking about the rest of it, but they couldn’t ignore it any longer. He placed his hands on his knees, physically bracing himself for the difficult conversation. Michelle spoke first.

“I suppose you better fill me in on what I missed while I was knocked the fuck out.”

“Right, um, we had to figure out what to tell our parents. We didn’t tell them last night, but we knew we’d have to in the morning, because, well…looking at us, it’s obvious we didn’t all trip and fall. When we woke up today and you were gone, we got really worried. But we rang Deirdre and found out you were here.”

“Ach, how was I supposed to talk to everyone after all that crying? It was fucking humiliating.”

James decided not to comment, and continued his story.

“At first, we were gonna say they just jumped us, but we kept thinking about all the witnesses. So, we agreed we were in enough shit anyway without more lying. We told them that the lads were mouthing off really bad and that you hit one. We didn’t say how hard.”

Michelle flinched as she remembered the feeling of blood on her hand and the sound of the boy’s head hitting the pavement.

“Then we told them about the way the really big one came after you, so that’s how we all ended up fighting. Because we had to protect you. And they believed us.”

Michelle nodded. Initially, she was annoyed that they hadn’t been able to stick to a story about being jumped, but this was probably the most reasonable course of action. Big shocker - things went more smoothly when she wasn’t calling the shots.

“However,” said James.

“Oh fuck, don’t ‘however’ me. I don’t even wanna know.”

James pressed on.

“Well, they wouldn’t let go of the fact that you did hit first. They were saying you were being impulsive, and that you put us all in danger, and that you left in the morning because you couldn’t own up to it…um, basically, they weren’t happy. We let them know that the lads were saying _really_ bad stuff, and then they said nothing could have been that bad, and that because of your lack of self-control some of us got hurt…”

“Ok, I get the idea, like,” snapped Michelle.

“So, Clare spoke up. She told Mary, Gerry, and Sarah that the boys called her and her girlfriend homophobic slurs. And me as well, I suppose.” His face turned slightly pink. “She said it seemed like they were a real danger to us, and to be fair, that was true. She said you were just defending her, and we all backed her up on that.”

Michelle felt her face grow hot. 

“Then they asked us why we didn’t lead with that. And Clare said her parents don’t know about her girlfriend, and Kayleigh’s parents don’t know she’s gay at all. She begged them not to tell her parents the full story, and then she started rambling about how scared she is they’ll find out anyway, and _then_ she broke down crying. So, the important thing for you is, you’re pretty much off the hook as far as the fight, so there’s one less thing to worry about.”

There was a moment of silence while Michelle took it all in.

“And are you gonna tell me what I do have to worry about?” she said quietly.

James sighed and put his head in his hands.

“I really didn’t wanna have to do this alone. Again. We were hoping you’d see last night that we’ll do anything to support you, so you’d be ready to talk today.”

“I know, I’m grateful, but I couldn’t face Clare, alright?” she said, feeling the tightness in her throat signaling imminent crying again. Was this crying carry-on going to become a regular occurrence?

“I understand…it’s just…we thought it was clear. We want to _help_.” He fought to keep the frustration out of his voice. The last thing he needed for was for Michelle to shut down yet again because he mishandled this.

“Ok Michelle, I’m just going to say it. We don’t know anything for sure obviously, but Erin and I sort of picked up on some signs that you might be…thinking you’re gay as well. Our guess is that you’re probably not a lesbian. You’ve made it pretty clear you genuinely fancy fellas.” He tried to force a smile, without much success. “Bi, like Kayleigh?

Michelle didn’t know what to say. She hated her friends and cousin for being so perceptive, and hated herself for being such a piss poor liar.

“Aye, I guess that’s pretty fuckin dead on. Congratulations for working it out.”

He stared at her, not expecting her to admit it so readily, if only because he knew her to be incredibly stubborn.

“So, of course you never had any doubt we’re all completely fine with that, seeing as there’s another lesbian in our group. We wondered what might be making things so hard for you, and we thought back to the first indication something was off, which was that you started acting differently after Clare introduced us to Kayleigh.”

James paused, hopeful she might confirm their suspicions again. She couldn’t bring herself to say it this time.

“Go on then,” she said softly. Shamefully.

“We…were thinking…” he said, dragging out the words. “There may be a possibility you have feelings for Clare?” he said, practically whispering.

There it was. This was not only her coming out, but the first time she’d ever talked to anyone about her “feelings”. She’d only ever talked about physical attraction for a reason. Michelle didn’t fuck with feelings.

She leaned back onto her bed and closed her eyes for a moment. She hoped that when she opened them, James would be gone. Or, preferably, that the world had ended. Put her out of her misery.

“God. FUCK!” she yelled, startling James, who had leaned in closer so they could have this conversation.

“Honestly? Yes, I’ve had to accept it. I fancy girls as well as fellas. But I wasn’t sure if I fancied Clare or not. Like, I’m not being funny, I actually couldn’t figure it out. Sometimes I thought I do fancy her, and sometimes I thought maybe I fancy that fuckin bitch Kayleigh.”

James was slightly taken aback, but made an effort not to betray it on his face.

“I think I just want what they have. They’re not fuckin confused like I’ve been. They’ve worked out what they’re into. Wanting to ride fellas is practically my whole identity, James! I feel like I don’t even know myself anymore! I just keep thinking about the past, like has it all been lies? And thinking about the future… how am I gonna cope with being…whatever the fuck I am!? I support gays, but I don’t want to be one.”

She was on the verge of tears and had to compose herself for a moment. James had been listening intently, unsure exactly how to help Michelle unpack all of this. He considered himself pretty good at giving advice, especially to the girls since he knew them so well, but this seemed too complex for one fella to handle.

Michelle took a deep breath. She had already gone this far, why not just share everything?

“What’s been fucking with my head is that I still do _mostly_ want to buck fellas. I don’t want to ride very many girls. I sort of want to ride Kayleigh, and I don’t want to ride Clare. Physically, she’s not my type. But I…”

She couldn’t figure out how to say it, and more importantly, she didn’t want to.

James nodded. He understood.

“You care for her.” he said softly. “A lot.”

Michelle felt a tear run down her face. Frustrated, she wiped it away. Finally, painfully, she nodded.

“I think I have for a while. I just never realized exactly… I know that sounds like a load of shite, like how thick can I be?”

“Stop,” said James. “It’s different, you know that. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“And I was already scared shitless about coming out and then last night happened. It’s terrifying. I can’t do it, James. I can’t fuckin handle it. Thank God I fancy fellas as well; I’m just going to fall back on that. There’s bound to be plenty of men I’ll be happy with.”

“Don’t say-”

“I’ve made up my mind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason I just really enjoy writing about James being supportive. If you can't tell, I hope to see more nice moments between Michelle and James in series 3.
> 
> Thanks for reading! I know I put that on every chapter, but it means a lot to me.


	8. i am drowning, please don't drown with me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> News travels fast in Derry. No one is angry with Michelle, but her guilt is making it difficult for her to accept any support. Clare has an unexpected request.

James didn’t push the topic any further after Michelle’s declaration. Michelle didn’t much fancy sitting around her house with just her cousin and her parents now that she was awake, so once James reassured her that their friends weren’t mad at her, she decided to head round the Quinns’. She was hoping they might have an update on how Clare was faring, but she didn’t mention that bit aloud.

She took a shower and walked downstairs, fetching James. 

“Alright, let’s head out. I’ve had a grand idea. We’re going to pop round Dennis’ on the way. I’m gonna get Orla a pick n’ mix to thank her for taking a beating to save my hole. I’ll get you one as well, let’s go.”

James smiled gratefully. Truthfully, Michelle was desperate to assuage any part of the guilt weighing on her about what her actions had caused. This would allow her to do that without showing any vulnerability. Making amends to Clare and Kayleigh was sure to cost her any remaining dignity she had, but this would only cost her a couple pound. 

They headed into the Wee Shop. James began selecting the contents for his pick n' mix.

“And for the second one, um, doesn’t actually matter, just a wee bit of everything you have,” instructed Michelle. “Oh, except the jawbreakers,” she added, thinking about Orla’s reflection in the mirror the night before.

Dennis rolled his eyes for no reason. Michelle was in the midst of pondering why he was such a fucking grump when she spotted two lads in the corner of the shop staring at them, one pointing at James’ face. When they saw her look, he put his arm down, but they continued to whisper and stare. She swore she heard them say a couple of male names and the word “lesbians”.

“Um, James, pick up the pace, will you?” she muttered.

James looked at her, confused. She nudged him and nodded towards the corner where the lads stood. As Michelle was paying, the pair started walking towards them. Michelle tensed up, trying not to appear as uneasy as she felt. The boys didn’t speak, but one very deliberately ran into her and then turned around to check whether she reacted as he walked out the door. Her heart was pounding now. They knew who she was, and she assumed they must be mates of the arseholes who’d attacked them last night.

“Are you deaf? Take your fucking change!!” bellowed Dennis, disproportionately angry as was his custom.

She snatched her change back, grabbed James’ arm and headed out of the store. Thankfully, she watched the lads walking away the opposite direction from where they were headed.

They arrived at the Quinns’ house. Often the door was unlocked, but now she had to knock. Gerry Quinn answered. 

“Oh, Michelle! Good to see you’re in one piece,” he said, the usual amiable smile on his face. 

“Aye. Barely.” 

“Girls, it’s Michelle and James!” he called out behind him.

They walked in and encountered a predictable scene. Orla was stretched across the couch, absentmindedly staring at the tv. She lazily waved a bag of frozen vegetables she’d been holding against her shoulder as a greeting. 

Erin, Mary and Sarah were sat around the kitchen table looking shifty, as though they had just stopped talking about something. It occurred to her why Gerry had yelled out to let them know she was here. None of them smiled, but they didn’t look unhappy to see her. They seemed to regarding her as though she were extremely fragile, and there was an uncertain silence for a moment. She was already regretting showing up here if this is how everyone was going to act.

“Alright, Michelle? What about ye? We were worried when you weren’t here this morning,” said Erin.

“I’m alive, I suppose. James filled me in. Told me everyone here knows I started the fight.”

“Ach, no you didn’t. Those other feckers did.” said Mary. “No one blames you, love.”

“Aye it was a brave thing to do, so it was,” chimed in Sarah.

Mary Quinn never called Michelle “love”. Also, she didn’t feel brave so much as she felt like a reckless arsehole. Why had everyone gone mental? 

“Thanks for letting us crash at your house, Sarah,” was all Michelle said in response.

“Anytime, love, sure I don’t get enough use out of the place as it is,” replied Sarah with a wave of her hand.

“You’re certainly welcome here whenever you need,” said Gerry. 

She wondered why she had such a strong aversion to being treated like this. She could cope with people raging at her, she was used to that. That’s how people are _supposed_ to respond when you’re a reckless arsehole. She knew she should appreciate everyone being kind and understanding, but it was making her uncomfortable. She was a piece of shit who didn’t deserve it.

Michelle couldn’t bear any more compassion, and wanted to proceed with the guilt-relieving, so she approached Orla on the couch. Like James’ eye, the bruising on her face and arm was now a nasty shade. It was unpleasant to behold, and Michelle felt a fresh surge of anger at the prick responsible for doing this to all of them. 

“Alright there?” she asked. 

“Aye I’m alright,” replied Orla, her eyes fixed firmly on the bags of pick n’ mix in their hands. “I’ve got a bit of a headache. That fella thumped me pretty good a couple times.”

“That’s an understatement,” said Erin, looking incensed on her cousin’s behalf. “He should be put in a cage if you ask me.”

“And it hurts my shoulder when I lift my arm. Not too bad, but something definitely popped, remember that, James?”

James grimaced and nodded. 

“It’s ok, though. Gerry said I probably just pulled a muscle…well I suppose I got it pulled for me, didn’t I?” she trailed off, gazing longingly at the bags of candy. Michelle almost chuckled. Orla really did have a one-track mind when sweets were involved.

“Well, this ought to help, eh? I told Dennis to hold the jawbreakers for a reason.” Orla looked hopefully up at Michelle, clearly thinking this was too good to be true.

“It’s all yours,” said Michelle, when she wasn’t quite getting the hint. 

“Happy days! Thanks!” exclaimed Orla, her eyes lighting up like a wain on Christmas as she cast aside the bag of frozen peas and grabbed the candy. Her reaction had the desired effect for Michelle, who unfortunately couldn’t remember the last time she’d done anything that made someone happy. If only it were this simple to please everyone. She also found herself wishing a cheap bag of sweets could improve her own mood this drastically. Maybe if it could, she wouldn’t have to drink so much.

“No, thank _you_. You and James saved my arse yesterday. Sorry you got a wee bit battered.”

“It’s no bother, Michelle. I’m glad you’re here. We were just talking about how we’ve all been so worried about you-”

“That’ll do, Orla.” muttered Erin. Joe chose that moment to pipe up from the chair.

“That great dirty brute best be thanking God I’m not 10 years younger. What kind of lad goes around manhandling girls and smashing bottles over their heads?!”

“Enough, Da. We’ve been over this already,” said Mary.

“No Mary, I’m serious! His handprint is on my granddaughter! If my license wasn’t suspended again and my feckin back wasn’t acting up, I’d go kick the shit out of the bastard right this very minute!”

The others were smiling at the old man’s antics, but Michelle found herself filled with dread again thinking about the encounter they’d had in the shop. She suspected there were more lads willing to beat up girls than there ought to be. Also, it had confirmed what she feared would happen - word would spread quickly. Which brought her back to the primary reason she’d come here.

She tried to keep her voice as nonchalant as possible.

“Is Clare coming back round later? I was hoping she’d be here if I’m honest, I wanted to see how she was coping. You know, since it was so scary for her and Kayleigh.”

“Aye I think she probably will be,” said Erin. “Her Ma was obviously having a cack attack this morning about the whole ‘street fight’ business, but she said she wanted to come back tonight.”

“I think she’s nervous about spending too much time around her folks,” added James. “She’s so afraid they’re gonna find out she has a girlfriend, and that we got targeted because they were holding hands.”

“This might be a stupid question,” began Michelle, “But will it really be that bad if they know? I mean, they know she’s a lezzer, sure they’ll come round to the idea of her dating?”

The others looked at each other. There was an understanding that it would probably be more complicated than that, but none of them knew how to articulate why. Gerry finally spoke, wise and reasonable as always.

“Ehm, Mary and I, we know Sean and Geraldine very well. They love Clare no matter what. But as a parent…you have certain hopes for your child’s future. Clare’s life is going to be different than they imagined. It’ll be more difficult for her, because not everyone she meets is going to treat her like you girls do. That’s something you all experienced last night, so now you know, it can even be dangerous.”

The girls and James looked at each other solemnly. They had always sort of thought that as long as Clare had them for support, everything would be ok. Sitting here listening to Gerry’s perspective, they felt naïve.

“I’d say it’s one thing for them to come to terms with her being gay, but it might be another for them to wrap their heads around her… _living_ gay.”

The words hit Michelle like a ton of bricks. There was no way Gerry could have known she was grappling with precisely that struggle, but now she felt like the room had run out of oxygen. She saw James and Erin glance at her involuntarily, knowing the significance. 

“Ah, dead on Gerry. Well said,” she said briskly. “Erin, we’ll go up to your room, shall we?”

Michelle then informed Erin and Orla about her recent struggles with her sexuality (or confirmed what they already guessed). She made sure it was clear that she still fancied fellas and didn’t plan on pursuing any girls, and she shut down their insistence that she should give dating girls a chance. Orla even used the phrase “follow your heart”, which Michelle thought was absolutely minging.

The girls and James continued to converse and try not to worry about Clare, and after dinner they resorted to playing games to occupy their minds as they still hadn’t heard from her.

They had just finished their 8th round of Stop the Bus when the phone rang. 

“I’ll get it!” yelled Erin, and she hurried to pick it up. Her eyes widened as she put the phone to her ear, and she looked at her friends, mouthing Clare’s name.

“Jesus, slow _down_ Clare, take a deep breath…”

There was a long silence as Erin listened. Her highly expressive face showed a mixture of shock and sadness. Michelle, James and Orla looked at each other nervously.

“God, I’m sorry Clare…I knew there was a reason I had a bad feeling about that old bat watching us…of course you can come round here and spend the night…sorry, what?”

Erin looked uneasily over towards the table, and they noticed her eyes were directly on Michelle.

“Um, yes, she’s here…what? Why?”

“What the fuck do you think she’s saying?” snapped Michelle, her heart beating very fast now.

“I imagine we’re about to find out,” said James.

“Are you sure? Well, no, truth be told, I don’t really understand…” Erin was saying. “I suppose you can explain more when you get here…”

Then she dropped her voice, trying to prevent them from hearing. Unfortunately for Erin, her voice could only get so quiet, and her words were still very audible.

“What the hell am I supposed to tell her?...Ok _relax_ , I’ll figure it out…see you soon.” 

Erin hung up the phone and slowly turned to face her friends. All her family members were staring at her too, having obviously eavesdropped as well. 

“Do you all remember when we were standing in the street while Clare was having her meltdown, and there was an old lady watching us from her window?”

The others shook their heads.

“To be honest, I don’t think Orla and I had fully regained consciousness yet.” said James.

“Aye we had other things on our fucking minds, Erin!” said Michelle aggressively, wanting Erin to get to the point.

“Fine! Well believe me, she was there, and she was watching us like a hawk. _Apparently_ , she lives with her son, who happened to be one of the men who came outside to break up our little incident. And _apparently_ , she also knows Clare’s family from the bingo hall.”

“Jesus fuck Erin!! Have you turned into your great uncle Colm?!” shouted Michelle, quite panicky by this stage. 

“I’M GETTING THERE!” yelled Erin. “This man told his Ma that after they broke up the fight, one of the boys called us…” she lowered her voice and mouthed “dykes”.

“Then, the old crone spied Clare crying and carrying on from her window, and recognized her!! So today, she rang Geraldine to ask her about it, and she’s all ‘what would your daughter be doing hanging around filth like that’. And, you all know Clare. She totally cracked. She told her parents that the whole fight started because she was holding hands with her girlfriend, who she’s been hiding from them for over a month.”

“What did they say when they found out?” asked James.

“Clare just said she’d say more when she got here. Sounded like she was absolutely cacking herself; it can’t be good. She was definitely crying.”

“The poor critter,” said Mary sympathetically.

Michelle’s escalating frustration and stress reached an unbearable level, and exploded out of her with a ferocity that frightened everyone. 

“I KNEW THIS WOULD FUCKING HAPPEN! Jesus Christ, Derry sure has outdone itself this time!! Not even a full 24 hours before the craic got back to Clare’s parents, _and_ it looks like the lads have told their mates so now we’ve all got to watch our backs. I FUCKING HATE IT HERE!”

“I know it’s bad Michelle, but try to calm down,” said James, looking taken aback and glancing sideways at Orla, who was covering her ears. “What’s done is done, and now all we can do is be here to support Clare.”

The others nodded in agreement, except for Erin, who appeared to be hesitating to deliver more bad news.

“There’s just one more thing,” she said quietly.

They all looked at her expectantly.

“Please don’t yell at me, alright?” She looked at Michelle. “I’m just repeating what Clare said, like. Um, she said she doesn’t want to see Michelle right now, and she was wondering whether you might, um, go somewhere else while she’s here?” Erin finished very quickly, withering under Michelle’s glare.

Michelle waited for Erin to continue with some kind of explanation, but clearly it wasn’t going to come.

“What the fuck are you on about?” she said, her voice dripping with a mixture of hurt and fury. The others were braced for her imminent wrath – James was white-knuckling the side of the table, Orla had pushed her chair backwards away from Michelle, and Erin was wearing a desperately pained expression.

“She just said she needed to be apart from you for a while. I don’t understand why. I thought she wasn’t angry,” she practically whispered. “Look, you don’t actually have to go _now_ , I’m sure-”

“No. I will. I’ll not be where I’m not wanted.” 

She stood up from the table. James made to follow her, but she told him to stay put, and left the house alone. It was more than just her pride that was wounded. The one person she hoped would be able to understand her struggles and help her navigate this daunting new reality was pushing her away without explaining why. And of course, the rest of them would have to stick with Clare, because she was the innocent party in all this, and Michelle was the fuck-up. This was why Michelle didn’t bother opening up to people. No matter, she didn’t need Clare. She didn’t need any of them, really. She could do this alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's up with Clare? 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	9. please tell me i am not undone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michelle feels completely lost after she pushes her friends away. When she reaches her lowest point, she receives help from an unlikely source.

Michelle stopped talking to her friends for the remainder of the summer holidays. She continued to interact with James at home because she had no choice, but she refused to spend time with the group other than that. At first, he would fill her in on what was going on with the girls, even though she insisted she didn’t care. He could sense that she did in fact care very much, but didn’t want to admit it.

Clare broke up with Kayleigh the day after the fight. Her parents didn’t force her to, but she told her friends that “the rose-colored glasses had come off”, and that she simply wasn’t emotionally prepared to be dating a girl in Derry at the moment. She was very shaken by what had happened, and even asked her friends to temporarily stop wearing the rainbow pins. 

They’d also tried to press her about why she didn’t want to talk to Michelle, but she only gave vague responses, claiming that she’d been considering putting some distance between the two of them for a while because of Michelle’s recent actions.

“This is a long time coming, truth be told,” she told them. “The fight was just the straw that broke the camel’s back.”

The others could tell that Clare wasn’t being entirely truthful, but it was all they’d get out of her. She suggested that they could keep hanging out with Michelle separately, but they informed her that Michelle wanted nothing to do with them now anyway. Clare looked regretful, saying she never meant for that to happen, but was still clear that she wasn’t budging on her stance. James, Erin, and Orla wanted their friends to reconcile, but it didn’t seem likely to happen anytime soon. As the first day of term approached, they began to wonder if Michelle would ever want to be friends with them again.

Michelle felt betrayed and scorned by Clare. James didn’t tell her about Clare’s supposed reasons for wanting to create space between the two of them – aside from thinking it would come out sounding harsh, he didn’t want to tell Michelle something that probably wasn’t even the whole truth. She was left with no explanation, and spent most of her time alone stewing about all the things she might have done to drive Clare away. 

She began to reflect on the countless occasions when she had screwed her friends over, hoping to justify her decision to cut them off by convincing herself that they were all better off without her. Michelle felt utterly lost without the people that usually supported her, but reached a point where she felt like she was nothing but a burden to them. She spent August making increasingly reckless decisions, needing to fill the void somehow. 

She was drinking almost constantly and had started attending parties with peers she usually didn’t care to associate with. She intended to establish herself within another group so she could avoid spending the upcoming school year friendless. She repeatedly told herself that this hard-drinking, promiscuous crowd was much more compatible with her than her old friends were, but she missed James and the girls every second.

“Honestly Michelle, we seem like a much better fit for you,” Charlene Kavanaugh began saying at one such party. “I’ve been saying that to Sheila, for like, the longest time. Haven’t I?”

“Aye no offense, but I always wondered why you hung around with that lot,” said Sheila. 

“What do you mean?” asked Michelle, feeling defensive and dreading the answer. She had heard enough from Sheila these past few weeks to know that whatever was coming next wasn’t going to be kind in the slightest.

The members of the clique looked around at each other, suppressing laughs. Michelle could tell exactly what they were thinking – _“Who wants to state the obvious?”_

“Um, well, they’re a bit of a sorry bunch, aren’t they?” said one of the girls.

“Erin Quinn thinks she’s the smartest person alive since Einstein, but really her head’s too far up her own arse to notice how obnoxious she is. She’s pure delusional if you ask me.” said Sheila in a spiteful voice, eager to begin bashing Michelle’s friends. 

“Ach, come on, she’s not so bad.” protested Charlene.

“Alright fair enough,” interjected another sneering girl. “Erin might not be Einstein, but at least she HAS a functioning brain, unlike that poor cousin of hers. Christ, but that girl’s got a screw loose…or a few.”

“Don’t be rude,” said Sheila, a wicked smile on her face. “It’s not Orla’s fault she’s not exactly playing with a full deck.”

Charlene snorted into her drink, and the other girls started to snicker. Michelle felt her blood pressure rise sharply. She gritted her teeth and forced herself to focus on the fact that Sheila resembled a pug.

“And speaking of cousins, I’ve always felt sorry for you having to be saddled with that English drip. You’d think having a fella at school would be exciting, but that stupid accent is such a turn off. It’d be less repulsive if he smelled like Caoimhe Callaghan instead.”

The girls laughed harder now, and Michelle felt very hot. She summoned all her willpower to suppress her anger so as not to alienate yet another group of people, even if they were total arseholes who had just heartlessly insulted people she cared deeply about. She closed her eyes and all she could picture was James and Orla covered in bruises. Now here she stood, listening to her classmates mock them. What had become of her?

“And Clare Devlin is an unbearable arse-kisser who wants to be a prefect, but can’t even cut it because she’s a nervous wreck.”

“Aye and isn’t she a dyke?” asked someone else in a disgusted voice. “What is that about? I don’t know how you put up with that, Michelle. Weren’t you afraid she might be gawking at your tits or something?”

“ENOUGH!” shouted Michelle. The girls looked surprised, but were still laughing heartily now at the expense of all of her friends. 

“God, why are you being such fucking dicks? What did they ever do to you? Quit slagging them off!”

“Jesus, relax,” said Sheila, taking a swig of her drink and rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, we thought you wised up and realized all this? You’re here right now instead of with them, aren’t you?” said Charlene.

Michelle simply shrugged. She was fuming, but mainly ashamed of herself for even being here listening to these bitches speak about the girls this way. Those were practiced insults - she absolutely had the impression they’d said these sorts of things about her friends many times before. She stormed away and went to go smoke outside, feeling profoundly miserable. 

By late August, she had successfully isolated herself even from James and her parents, only speaking to them when absolutely necessary. One afternoon, she found herself in the general vicinity of the mall and couldn’t help but wonder if Clare was nearby. She cautiously walked inside and peered into the store where Clare and Kayleigh worked. Not seeing either of them, she headed into the shop and approached the employee, another teenage girl. Recognition passed between them as she met Michelle’s eyes; she was a year younger at Our Lady Immaculate. 

“Hi! How can I be of assistance to you today?” she asked in a chirpy voice.

“Ah, I’m actually not looking to buy anything, I just had a wee question about…someone else who works here.”

The girl looked as though she already knew where the conversation was headed, but asked who Michelle was referring to anyway.

“Her name’s Clare Devlin…and actually someone else as well, Kayleigh Hannigan.”

The girl’s face fell.

“Oh, that’s what I thought. Sorry if this is a bit awkward, but I remember seeing you with Clare at Our Lady Immaculate.”

Michelle nodded, feeling uneasy. 

“Um, I suppose she hasn’t told you?” she asked. Michelle sighed, and the girl quickly continued.

“Clare and Kayleigh got fired a few weeks back. One day out of the blue, one of our other coworkers told me they both wouldn’t be back. Apparently, they got like, attacked on the street one night for being…” she dropped her voice to a whisper “…lesbians”. 

Michelle’s heart sank to the pit of her stomach. Clare had lost her sense of security, her girlfriend, and her job. She also worried about what had happened to Kayleigh regarding her parents; she hadn’t thought about it much until now. 

The employee was biting her lip, like she wanted to ask another question.

“I don’t mean to pry, like. But since you showed up here…weren’t you friends with Clare last term? Is she really gay? I mean, I worked with both of them and they _never_ let on they were a couple. In fact, I’ve sorta thought this whole time that it was a load of balls and really they just got fired for stealing or-”

“No, they are a couple. Well, they were.”

“Oh wow,” the girl said, looking intrigued. “They seemed so _normal_!”

“They are normal.”

The girl blushed and made to respond, but Michelle turned around and walked out before she could hear any more. She was ruminating about how she had already lost track of what was going on in her friends’ lives. 

Term began next week, and Michelle was dreading it with every fiber of her being. She’d have lessons with her old friends all day every day, and she didn’t know how she’d be able to bear it. There was no way she and Clare would be able to avoid each other. And the prospect of hanging around with Charlene and her gang of arseholes while they slagged off the girls made her want to tear her hair out. Returning was starting to feel like an impossible task. How was she supposed to focus on schoolwork when her entire fucking life had fallen apart? She’d never been an excellent student to begin with, and school had never seemed less important than now. 

_Maybe I don’t have to go back._

Michelle started to formulate legitimate plans to avoid returning to school. She wondered whether she had enough money to skip town and find work somewhere else. She felt like she had done an effective job pushing everyone away over the past month, to the point they wouldn’t miss her if she left. Her desperation was so great that she came dangerously close to ringing her Aunt Kathy and asking if she could go stay with her. She didn’t know where she would end up; all she could think was that she wanted to be far away from Derry, and all the people and memories in it. This place was suffocating her. 

The day before she was due to begin school, Michelle grabbed a bottle of vodka and left home in the evening without telling her parents or James, as she had become accustomed to doing. She wandered the streets, passing locations which brought back memories of happier times. 

She walked past the Quinns’ house and yearned to look into the windows, but was afraid they’d catch sight of her. She meandered past the shops, thinking about Dennis and his dud flags, and the day James had declared himself a Derry girl. She passed the chippy, remembering the flaming curtains. She stood outside the church and almost laughed as she recalled The Holy Smirk. 

At last, she found herself outside Our Lady Immaculate, looking up at the buildings where she had spent so much time and made so many memories. By this stage, she had been drinking all day, and could barely stand. She dropped to her knees in the grass. She was due to be starting her final year here in about twelve hours, but was instead trying to decide whether she’d show up at all. She was reliving the past so vividly, she swore she could almost hear her friends’ voices calling her name. 

Then, with a start, she realized someone _was_ in fact yelling her name. Her pulse immediately quickened and the memory of a certain prick holding a broken beer bottle flashed across her mind. She got to her feet and tried to turn around much too quickly, staggered backwards, and fell again.

“Don’t have a heart attack, I come in peace…but Jesus, look at the state of you!”

It was none other than Clare’s ex-girlfriend. She had tried to speak in a lighthearted tone, but it came out sounding more concerned. Kayleigh may not have been the person Michelle was most keen to talk to at the moment, but at least she wasn’t about to be physically assaulted. She didn’t bother trying to stand up again, instead sitting with her knees drawn close to her chest and arms rested on top of them. 

“So this is what you’ve been up to lately, eh?” said Kayleigh. “Look, I’m not judging, but this might not get you started off on the right foot tomorrow.” She tried to force a laugh again, but Michelle was finally able to focus on her face. Even through her drunken haze, she noticed that Kayleigh didn’t look as confident and vivacious as she had earlier in the summer. She had dark circles under her eyes and even the way she was carrying herself, with her shoulders hunched and hands in her pockets, made her seem timid.

“Thanks for your concern Kayleigh, but I actually won’t _be_ going to school tomorrow, so it doesn’t fuckin matter.” said Michelle. She wasn’t sure why she said it, but she was so desperate for help, it spilled out against her will.

Kayleigh furrowed her brow and looked around as if to check if anyone was watching before sitting down next to Michelle on the grass.

“What are you on about?”

“Forget it. I’m steamin. I’m talking shite.” Michelle muttered.

Kayleigh shook her head and exhaled deeply.

“No. I’m not leaving here until you talk to me. Look, we both know that you and I won’t ever be best friends, but I hate to see you like this. You need to talk to someone, and seeing as you’ve been avoiding all the people who love you, you’re gonna have to talk to me.”

Only one word stood out to Michelle as Kayleigh had spoken. She made a disparaging noise.

“They don’t love me,” she slurred.

“Catch yourself-,” Kayleigh started to say, and as she turned to face Michelle, she looked into her eyes and realized she was dead serious. 

“You seriously think that?”

“How would you know how they feel about me?” snapped Michelle, wanting to avoid the question. “Didn’t you and Clare break up?”

As always, Kayleigh didn’t rise to Michelle’s antagonizing response. She slowly took out a pack of cigarettes, lighting one for herself and offering one to Michelle, which she accepted.

“Yes, we did. Not that you’d give a shit, but I haven’t had a great month myself. Clare dumped me right after the brawl, I got fired from my job, and my parents found out about everything. My Da wanted to kick me out of the house, but my Ma stopped him. They look at me like I’ve got leprosy and rarely let me out at night anymore. When they do, it’s only because they need a wee break from the disgusting sight of me. But I’ve been spending time with your friends during the day while my parents are at work.”

There was silence for a moment.

“Sorry to hear that, I really am,” replied Michelle. “I actually have been wondering how you’ve been getting on. I was worried for you after the fight because of how fast Clare’s parents got wind of it.”

“Aye, this town is the fuckin worst for that sort of thing,” said Kayleigh. “My life has turned to shit. I don’t know what’s gonna happen. But you know the only people who’ve stopped me from wanting to drown myself in the Foyle? Your cousin and friends.”

Michelle said nothing, knowing that if she opened her mouth, she’d break down crying, and took a drag of her cigarette. 

“Clare and I still get on alright. It was kind of a mutual decision actually. We can’t date while all this shit’s going on. She and your other friends have been so good to me, and their families have as well. So that’s how I know they’re worried sick about you - they talk about it every day.”

“Doubt that,” said Michelle. “It sounds like they’re already replaced me,”

Unable to contain her frustration, Kayleigh whacked Michelle across the arm.

“What the fuck was that for!?” yelled Michelle.

“Will you open your fucking eyes? Look, I could tell you weren’t straight almost the second we met. And I could also tell you were only acting like such an arsehole because you were confused and struggling. But I thought with such an accepting group of friends, you’d be alright soon enough.”

Michelle put her head between her knees, feeling nauseated. Kayleigh continued, raising her voice to the point of shouting. 

“But what did you do? You shut them all out, even your cousin who lives with you!! That would almost be impressive it wasn’t _so bloody stupid._ They proved there’s _nothing_ they won’t do for you!Why don’t you realize how fucking lucky you are?”

“Fuck! Listen, this is not all on me! It’s Clare who started it! She didn’t want anything to do with ME, and she wouldn’t even tell me why! But now I’m _glad_ she did it. Because it made me realize, they’re all better off without me! All I do is fuck things up for those girls. The fight’s just one example of hundreds, you just haven’t been around to see it. They should have kicked me to the curb a long time ago. Well, I took out the fuckin trash for them,” Michelle was crying now, but tears had come so often lately that it no longer fazed her. 

At last, Kayleigh was able to see the full depth of Michelle’s pain and self-loathing. She took a long moment to choose her words carefully.

“If you really think that, I’m not gonna be the one to change your mind, am I? You should really talk to them, and hear what they have to say about it. But really, no one can fix that but you. That way of thinking will follow you wherever you go, no matter who you hang around with.”

Michelle couldn’t argue with that. Deep down, she had already known that was true, and it was frightening. How was she ever going to fix herself?

“And as for Clare’s reasons for staying away from you…well naturally the others couldn’t tell, but to me, it couldn’t be more obvious. I thought you might have figured it out as well, considering we’re different than James, Erin and Orla.”

“Can you just get to the point? I’m too blocked for you to be speaking in riddles.” Michelle had no idea what Kayleigh was getting at, besides implying that her being bisexual apparently meant that she should have the ability to read Clare’s mind.

“Listen, I was genuinely fond of Clare. Still am, as a friend. But now that I’ve had some time to reflect, I think she and I really did only start dating because we both happened to be into girls and we thought we were the only ones around. I always sort of sensed she longed for someone else, who she thought she couldn’t have.”

“What are you suggesting?” Michelle whispered.

Kayleigh had a wry smile on her face now, and she extinguished her cigarette on the ground.

“The fight was a setback for Clare. She’s terrified of being a lesbian at the moment. Poor girl, not that I blame her. With her friends’ support, I hope she’ll be back to feeling safe soon. But in the meantime, I don’t think she thought it would be helpful to have someone around who…reminded her just how desperately she wants to be dating a girl. Someone who, as it turns out, might feel the same, making it a little too real.”

Kayleigh stood up and looked down at Michelle, whose mouth was hanging open in shock. She laughed with no trace of jealousy or animosity. 

“Bingo,” she said. “Listen, I’ll not be attending Our Lady Immaculate, but I’ll still be around your friends outside school as much as I can be. I’d better see you soon then, yeah?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't actually get the vibe Charlene was *that* bad in the show, but I needed a popular mean girl so I used her name lol. 
> 
> I hope you're enjoying the story, I appreciate any comments so much! :)


	10. holding onto something that does far more harm than good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michelle doesn't know what to make of Kayleigh's revelation. She continues to resist reaching out to her friends, until she is finally forced to...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ramble in the end notes about some of my thoughts re:this chapter and something that inspired it.

It took Michelle a few minutes to fully digest what she’d just heard. She sat on the lawns of her school in a state of utter disbelief. Was it possible that her brain was so inundated with alcohol that she’d hallucinated the entire conversation? She was frustrated that she was so drunk; it would be really damn useful to have a clear head right about now. As she finished smoking her cigarette, she concluded there was only one logical explanation – Kayleigh was mistaken. 

Sure, Kayleigh had no way of being certain. It was all mere speculation. She was just being a smarthole; acting as though she was some sort of “lesbian whisperer”. The more Michelle thought about it, she wondered whether Kayleigh might have actually been taking the piss. After all, Kayleigh had never liked her. Maybe she was trying to trick her into telling Clare about her feelings as some sort of twisted prank. Michelle figured that would be much more plausible than Clare fancying her, considering all the selfish shit she had pulled. 

Michelle stood up, swaying on the spot and wishing she could sober up through sheer willpower. She stumbled her way home, and went to her room without speaking to James. She desperately wanted to, and yet, she couldn’t bring herself to face him. It was going to take more than Kayleigh’s word to convince Michelle the lot of them weren’t better off without her. She lay there in the dark, unable to sleep, trying to decide whether or not she’d be returning to those lawns in the morning.

James waited until the last possible moment to ask Michelle if she wanted to accompany him to Our Lady Immaculate College the next morning. Conveniently for his cousin, Deirdre and Martin had worked the night shift again and weren’t quite home yet at the time their daughter was supposed to be off to school. James was going to be late if he didn’t leave soon, but he didn’t want to leave without her. He wasn’t ready to give up on Michelle yet, no matter how hard she tried to shun him. 

He knocked softly, anticipating a barrage of swear words. He knew she’d been walking around the streets drinking again last night.

“Michelle? Are you coming to school? I’m about to head out, I’ll be late otherwise.”

When the expected “Fuck off, dickhead” didn’t reach his ears, he gently pushed open the door. Michelle’s bed was empty. He looked around the room, even though there was nowhere for her to hide. James tried not to panic. He immediately blamed himself. He was the one who lived here, who saw just how isolated Michelle had been. He was the one who heard her crying in the dead of night when she thought no one was awake. God, why hadn’t he tried harder to intervene? 

He’d heard her come home last night, so she must have left again sometime after that without him noticing. He prayed she hadn’t gotten very far. Had she taken a bus or gone on foot? Feeling frantic, James realized he was too late for the school bus, so he took the car the Mallons hadn’t taken to work. He was forbidden to touch it without asking and was sure to be grounded later, but this was urgent. The girls could help him figure out what to do. Even though they hadn’t been speaking to Michelle lately, they hadn’t stopped worrying either. 

He arrived barely in time before the opening assembly, and located Erin, Orla and Clare. Their smiles of greeting turned to expressions of concern when they noticed how distressed he looked.

“Christ, what took you so long?” asked Erin.

“We were wondering where you were, you had me worried!!” said Clare.

They fussed over him as he tried to figure out how to tell them what was going on. 

“I need your help! Michelle-”

“Ach I know, can you believe her?” said Erin.

“I- sorry, what?” asked James, now lost. “How do you already know?”

“Know what? That she’s hanging out with Charlene and her pack of bitches? Because I can see her right behind you.” Erin made a disgusted face and scoffed. 

James wheeled around and sure enough, there was Michelle, with Charlene Kavanaugh and her clique. She looked thoroughly unhappy and was deliberately avoiding looking at him and the girls. He turned back to his friends.

“She’s been here this entire time!? I thought she ran away!!” James yelled, fuming at Michelle for frightening him. Several other students turned to stare and a couple even snickered. The gang noticed Michelle’s face turn red from across the room, although she still didn’t look up.

“I suppose she had no choice but to come,” said Erin as they moved to take their places for the assembly. “I’ll admit, I thought this would finally force her to speak to us, but clearly I underestimated her stubbornness.”

“I mean for God’s sake, she even left home super early to avoid James. She never even liked Charlene,” added Clare, with more than a hint of bitterness.

“I don’t understand what she’s doing. She’s not happy over there.” said Orla, not bothering to be subtle as she stared at Michelle. One of the girls standing near Michelle didn’t appreciate being watched, and sneered at Orla in return. 

“She’s probably just hungover again. There’s never a moment anymore she’s not hungover or drunk!” snapped James, feeling irate. He was frustrated at himself for thinking this situation was dire enough to take the car. He was fed up with caring and getting nothing in return. He felt a strange desire to confront Michelle right then and there, in front of everyone. However, he worked to control his temper, as the assembly was starting momentarily. 

James and the girls swore they noticed Charlene and her friends whispering and glancing at them during the assembly, but they told themselves they were imagining it. Michelle might not want to talk to them for whatever reason, but surely she would never join in on slagging them off with the popular girls. They continued their day as a group of four, avoiding answering questions from nosy classmates about what had caused the rift between them and Michelle. 

The popular crowd on the other hand, wasted no time informing everyone who would listen that Michelle had grown tired of her group of misfit friends. Michelle demanded they stop insulting her old friends in front of her, and she tried to steer the narrative back towards a more generic “mutual decision to part ways”. However, that didn’t make very effective fodder for schoolgirl gossip. 

Michelle thought her new group had been unbearable enough at the parties, but they were somehow even worse when they were at school. They had a never-ending supply of judgmental and negative things to say about every girl around, including a lot of people Michelle hadn’t even known the names of previously. It almost made her feel relieved that her friends weren’t the only targets, but it was exhausting. Sure, Michelle wasn’t a big enough hypocrite to pretend she hadn’t slagged off her classmates in the past, but she had never given that much of a fuck. These girls practically got off on reminding each other on a daily basis that they were superior to everyone else. 

She made up her mind before the week was over that she’d rather have no friends than continue to hang around with them. She was trying to figure out how best to ease her way out without drama, (to minimize the rumors they’d spread about her afterwards) but during the third week of classes she found herself in a situation that sped up the process considerably.

Michelle was sitting there brooding and only half-listening while the girls engaged in their typical gossiping bullshit during lunch break. One of their classmates, a nice but somewhat mousy girl, walked past. 

One member of the clique, Caitlin, made a derisive noise and nudged Charlene. 

“Jesus, look at Aoife. Have you ever seen a more unflattering head of hair? What gave her the notion a fringe would suit her?”

“Especially with her lopsided head shape and poor grooming habits,” remarked Charlene, analyzing Aoife as if she were a particularly mangy stray cat.

“Aye she looks like a scarecrow,” Sheila said. “Char, bump her down a few spots.”

“Assuming she’s not already at the bottom,” commented another girl, Bridget.

They all laughed and Michelle had a sinking feeling in her stomach as Charlene withdrew a notebook from her bag. It had the words “Official Ranking: 1996-1997 Term” written on the cover.

“What the fuck’s ‘the official ranking’?” demanded Michelle.

A couple of the girls exchanged annoyed glances and rolled their eyes. 

“This is why we agreed not to do this in front of her. I knew she’d get her knickers in a twist,” muttered Caitlin.

“Yeah, stop wrecking the buzz, Michelle.” said Sheila. “It’s just a wee system we have to keep track of where everyone in our year stands.”

“So you just rank everyone from absolutely stunnin to total minger…based on your opinions? What’s the point of that exactly?”

“It’s not just about looks,” said Charlene impatiently, as if that made it better. “It’s about how everyone, I dunno, presents themselves, I suppose…”

“Lemme see it,” ordered Michelle.

Charlene sighed. 

“Forget it. I’m putting it away.”

“No, you’ll fucking hand it over!” shouted Michelle.

Charlene reluctantly held out the notebook. Michelle grabbed it and looked inside. She was immediately struck by the sheer amount of effort the girls put into the thing. It appeared that there were to be weekly updates all year. Beside each name were comments detailing the girls’ positive and negative attributes, in order to justify their place on that week’s edition of the ranking. Many of the notes were about physical appearance, but many more were not, and the unrelenting cruelty was plainer than ever. The criticisms were pure ridiculous. Christ, was it seriously Aisling’s fault she used an inhaler? 

Michelle observed that she herself wasn’t even in the top 10 on this week’s ranking, but she wasn’t remotely bothered by that. She saw Erin just below the halfway point and the rest of her friends near the bottom, only above Jenny Joyce and a few others. Michelle almost couldn’t bring herself to read what was written about her friends, but she had no choice. She felt her face grow hot and heard a ringing in her ears as she took in the comments, which got increasingly offensive the further she read. 

_Erin Quinn: positives – Styling her hair well lately. Helps with assignments sometimes if you ask her. Negatives - not that smart but still has an ego. Tries too hard. She needs to learn her place as her friends are a bunch of dicks._

_James Maguire: positives – He isn’t a pervert. Negatives - stupid accent, pathetic posture, snob, thinks Derry’s beneath him, probably gay._

_Orla McCool: positives - Sometimes good for a laugh. Negatives - Total weirdo with no shame. Never stops eating. It’s obvious she’s a bit retarded. Erin isn’t fooling anyone when she claims otherwise._

_Clare Devlin: positives - none. Negatives – needs to lose weight, talks too much about what’s going on in the news, suck-up. Worst of all, she’s a dyke. Boke-O-Rama. She shouldn’t even be allowed to attend school with all girls._

If looks could kill, all the girls in Michelle’s immediate vicinity would have promptly dropped dead. She noted the frightened expressions on their faces, and only then registered that she was shaking with rage.

“What the _actual fuck_ is wrong with you all?”

“Loosen up Michelle, don’t be such a craic killer,” said Caitlin, trying to sound calm.

“Shut the fuck up!” commanded Michelle, and the girls gasped. Charlene reached forward to snatch the notebook back, but Michelle held it out of her reach.

“How many times have I told you how I feel about this? My old group, they can’t help any of that stuff! Why do you hate them so much? They’ve never had a problem with you!! You lot barely ever speak to them! You don’t fucking KNOW THEM!” she said, unable to control the volume of her voice. 

Bridget shushed Michelle as people were starting to stare. 

“Don’t have a cack attack! No one else is ever gonna see that thing anyway!”

“It could fall into the wrong hands!! And that’s not the fucking point!! You’re a shower of miserable bitches! Erin, James, Orla and Clare are a million times better people than you’ll EVER be!!” Michelle was aware that her voice sounded uncharacteristically shrill.

“That explains why they stopped being friends with you, then!” yelled Sheila, standing up. Michelle did so as well, so that they were eye to eye. 

“We thought you’d be happy to be rid of them, you ungrateful bitch!” Sheila continued. “You’ve always acted like you’re such hot shit, but ran around with the most pathetic bunch of dicks in Derry. We thought you’d finally come to your senses but it turns out, it was probably _them_ that had enough of _you._ You’re insecure, you’re a fucking alcoholic…honestly, you’re a total disaster.”

Charlene stood up as well. 

“We worked it out weeks ago why you hung around with that sorry group for so long. Because they make you feel better about yourself! You need to get off the moral high ground, Michelle. Don’t act like we don’t know you’ve always been an arsehole and a mouth. Sure, we might slag off the other girls in school, but what you were doing to those stupid friends of yours was much worse. You used them to prop yourself up! Why else would you spend all your time around your English drip of a cousin, an eejit who can’t grasp basic social skills, and an admitted lesbian? So you could _almost_ forget what a piece of shit YOU are, isn’t that right?”

As Charlene finally finished her tirade, Michelle was at a loss for words. She had never in her life had trouble generating scathing comebacks until now. Charlene had always been nice enough to her group of friends, and even though they could sense the falseness, they had no idea she and her gang were this malicious. Her heart broke knowing that these girls despised her old friends so much for just being themselves. But the worst bit of all was – the self-loathing voice in Michelle’s head was telling her there was a sliver of truth in something Charlene said. 

Michelle had never consciously used her friends’ supposed shortcomings to boost her often negligible self-esteem. However, now that it was out in the open, she realized that she did always enjoy feeling like the leader of her group of lovable misfits. They always believed her exaggerated stories (or at least got a laugh out of them if they didn’t) and accompanied her on her hair-brained schemes. None of them would ever have described her as insecure, because they’d never seen through her confident charade at all. 

One positive thought surfaced. Charlene and Sheila were mistaken about something important. She hadn’t grown tired of her old friends. And no matter how much Michelle teased them, deep down, she would never judge them for the things these girls considered to be their faults. They accepted her the way she was, and the feeling had always been mutual. 

As she stood there trying to pick her jaw up off the floor, she saw Charlene and Sheila look at each other, satisfied smirks on their faces. She wanted to use that bloody notebook to beat them over the heads or ram it somewhere the sun didn’t shine, but those days were behind her. Instead, she did the only thing that came to mind. She turned on the spot and ran. 

Michelle never thought she’d do something as undignified as sprint through the halls of school, but she knew this would piss those girls off the most. She wanted to expose them for the arseholes that they were. She could hear them screaming at her and she was aware of everyone’s bewildered eyes following her as she tore through the hallways, weaving dangerously through the crowd. Who was she even going to show this to? Sister Michael? As it turns out, the decision was made for her.

She rounded a corner and slammed full-force into a wee first year. The girl shrieked as she and Michelle both collided with the floor. The notebook was knocked out of Michelle’s hand and skidded across the hallway. Michelle muttered what she hoped were sincere apologies to the first year, and scrambled to her feet to retrieve the book. She realized with a jolt of horror that it was too late. It had stopped at the feet of none other than Jenny Joyce, who picked it up and examined it. Charlene and her friends had now caught up, and Michelle heard them gasp behind her as they saw Jenny inspecting the book. 

“Well, what do we have here?” asked Jenny, eyeing Michelle with utmost suspicion. 

“Ach, Jenny don’t open that, give it here, it’s boring anyway,” Michelle begged. 

Her heart skipped a beat as she saw the rest of the students returning from their lunch break, among them, her old friends. They halted and took in the scene.

“What’s happenin?” asked Erin, looking from Jenny to Michelle, confused. A whole crowd was now gathered, silently urging Jenny to start spilling the contents of the notebook.

“What’s going on here? Why are you all in my way!?” bellowed Sister Michael from behind Charlene and the others. She stopped and looked at Jenny.

“What do you have there, Jenny?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Michelle was running through the hall with it, Sister. Then she ran into that first year and dropped it,” said Jenny in a smug voice, as if that alone was enough to land Michelle in detention. 

Michelle looked at Sister Michael and shook her head urgently, willing her to prevent Jenny from reading out any of the ranking in this crowded hallway. Charlene and the others kept their mouths shut, hoping they could pin the whole thing on Michelle. 

Sister Michael parted the sea of students and held out her hand. Obedient as always, Jenny surrendered the book. Michelle almost breathed a sigh of relief, but then watched as Sister Michael opened it and began taking in its contents. All the assembled pupils waited in suspense. Her face betrayed no emotion until her eyes reached the bottom of one of the pages. Her eyebrows raised and she inhaled sharply. She glanced very quickly at Erin, Clare, Orla and James, before looking at Michelle.

“I’d like to know who’s responsible for writing this.”

Michelle stepped out of the way and pointed to Charlene, Sheila, Caitlin and Bridget. She could feel her old friends staring at her and couldn’t look their way. 

“She’s lying,” said Charlene, calm and confident. “It was her.”

“She told us it would be a laugh, and when we saw what was in it, we called her out for being an arsehole. We said we’d turn it into you and that’s why she ran,” said Sheila. 

“Is that true, Miss Mallon?” asked Sister Michael.

“No. It was the other way round.” said Michelle, feeling hopeless. It was four against one and her reputation as a notorious liar preceded her. Tears of frustration filled her eyes.

“I want all five of you to come with me to my office,” said Sister Michael.

“No!” objected Sheila. “I mean, with all due respect Sister, my friends and I shouldn’t be punished because Michelle’s a bully.”

She had fucked up. Michelle would have been willing to settle the matter privately, but Sheila was sorely mistaken if she thought she could go on painting Michelle as the villain in front of her old friends.

“I didn’t write any of that,” Michelle said, mustering all her strength to keep her voice calm. “You want the truth? A couple of the things in there, I _may have_ said before. But I know you also saw some shit in there that I would _never_ say,” she pleaded.

Sister Michael considered this for a moment.

“Everyone, shift yourselves!” she suddenly barked, making them all jump. “For God’s sake, you’re all missing lessons! Everyone except…”

She pointed at Michelle, then at Charlene’s group of friends, and finally at Erin, Orla, James and Clare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep feeling really unsure about this chapter. For one thing I wasn't sure I should change POV at such a crucial point in the story, and also just this Mean Girls-esque plot point. But I ended up doing both lol.
> 
> Why I wrote it the way I did instead of having Michelle immediately go talk to Clare: At this stage, I viewed Michelle as someone who was not going to reach out for help until some external force quite literally forced her to. Kayleigh helped, but I imagined it was sort of a "lead a horse to water, can't make him drink" situation. Michelle heard enough to persuade her not to run away, but she had been struggling too long to make the full leap.
> 
> Also - the bit where Charlene calls Michelle out for using her friends to prop her up was inspired by this clip of Jamie-Lee O'Donnell talking about her interpretation of Michelle. I'm referring to 9:05-9:34 in the video and the link should lead to that timestamp! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rr7xQmxuK24&t=9m05s  
> I don't necessarily view this as Michelle truly using her friends or not valuing them. To me it just hinted at her having lower self-esteem than she lets on, which is the whole theme of this fic lol.
> 
> Anyway, I hope this was at least entertaining if nothing else!. Next chapter - A significant moment for Michelle and Clare...


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